Nihil novum sub sole
by leontinees
Summary: After the trip to the other world, AltMichael intends to invade the main Earth. How to stop him? Maybe that old-as-Creation spell would be useful, but it doesn't unfold in the way the Winchesters expected. Long-gone faces show up again, for better or worse... (Canon 'til the very end of s11, no Mary but Jess). Destiel&Samsica, now with ADAM, EMMA, KEVIN, JESSE (antichrist) and etc.
1. Prologue

_**ATTENTION!:** as much as I love Supernatural, I didn't really like most of s12. Bringing back Mary was stupid, and the whole plot about the British Men of Letters was such a nonsense to me; I enjoyed the Devil's spawn part though. So, this season is going to be readjusted in a rush _until I reach the moment where my story actually begins. This means no Mary resurrected and no BMoL, with all derived consequences that I'll try to explain as best as I can. Semi-canon until then!__

* * *

 **Prologue**

Dean looked around, awed, as light and warmth suddenly filled the garden.

"Dean, you gave me what I needed most. I want to do the same for you."

And saying that, a single happy teardrop rolled down her cheek. The dark entity took it on a fingertip, and offered it to the hunter.

"Take this. With all my gratitude and power, I'll grant you a wish. No matter what it is, it will be conceded, but only once and only for you."

He extended his hand hesitantly and accepted the gift, that had solidified in a tiny, black round pearl.

"If my sister gifts you with a present, I'll do something for Sam too," Chuck smiled kindly. "The Fates probably won't be happy, but... well, I'll leave instructions with Castiel."

"Come, Elohim. Let's be siblings again," Amara said, holding hands with her brother. "Goodbye, Dean."

And then they were dissolving, two big columns of light and dark smoke ascending to who knew where, until only Dean remained in the garden. He looked again at the black pearl on his hand.

"Now what the hell am I supposed to do with this?"

Dean didn't doubt Amara's willingness to return a favour, but he knew better than to trust wishes. They always seemed to have a catch.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Meanwhile in the bunker, Castiel and Sam were about to go downstairs when a sudden wave pierced the angel's brain.

"Sam..." he called, with a hand on his temple.

"Cas, what it is? Are you alright?"

"I think there is... there is someone in the bunker."

Immediately Sam reached for the revolver on his back, but Castiel held his wrist.

"No, it is not... it is not a malevolent presence. I believe... God sends it to you."

Barely reassured by this, Sam put away the weapon but continued to be on guard. Slowly descending the stairs and looking around, when they made it down to the table on the war room, the 'presence' became perfectly visible to them. Standing in the connected next room, the library, there was a person. A young female with long, curly blond hair and a couple of beauty marks on her pretty face. She wore a short white nightdress.

"Sam..." she whispered, stunned.

The hunter didn't do much better. Incredulous and afraid of being delirious again, he could only stutter:

"Jess... is that you, Jessica?"

The woman stood there, confused, not knowing where she was, looking at the two men in front of her.

"Sam?" she said tentatively, not daring to move. "You look... different."

"Yeah, it's me," he babbled, a lump in his throat, taking a step forward. "Though I feel like it should be me the one asking you that. Are you really... Jess?"

"Of course I am. Who else could I...?" Then an image flashed through her mind. Pain. Blood. _Fire_. "Wait, what is...?" Jess mumbled, a hand on her head.

There was so much fear, and betrayal, and hurt. She felt herself swooning, her knees going weak. Sam ran to her side and caught her in his arms before she fell to the ground.

"Jess! Jess, are you ok? Talk to me, precious."

He cradled her gently against his body, trying to give her comfort.

"I'm... I'm ok, just a memory, I think. Sam," she called him earnestly, grabbing the collar of his jacket and locking eyes with him. "I have the feeling... I shouldn't be here, right?"

The hunter gulped loudly.

"No, Jess, you shouldn't," he answered softly, caressing her face. "But I'm still crazily happy that you are. I missed you to the point of madness."

She smiled faintly, relishing his tender embrace.

"Cas," Sam called the momentarily forgotten angel. "Can you... check her up, to see if everything is fine?"

Castiel nodded, understanding the real meaning of such request. He came closer and put two fingers on the woman's forehead, letting his grace flow through her. No angelic trace, no demonic miasma, no monster vibe. Just a pure, unadulterated human soul.

"She is alright, Sam. As far as I can tell, there is nothing to worry about. However..."

He trailed off, unsure of how to voice his doubts. He didn't need to, though, as probably the same questions were running wild in the hunter's mind too, because as happy as he was to have Jessica back... she was dead, _should_ be dead. Why was she here?

"Jess, precious, do you need anything?" Sam asked, gently helping her back on her feet. "Water? Food? Warmth?"

"No, I'm mostly ok. Though... I'd prefer to be a little more dressed in front of your friend."

And she smiled, that little benevolent but slightly amused smile that Sam remembered to love so much.

"My apologies," Castiel muttered, being guilty of nothing, while taking off his trenchcoat and offering it to the woman. "I know that usually humans feel uncomfortable in front of others while in a state of under-dressing."

Jessica frowned a bit due to his strange phrasing, but accepted the coat and put it on, buttoning it up.

"Sam, what's happening?" she finally asked, turning to him. "Where are we?"

"Well, we're..." he started, doubting what or how much information he should disclose. "We're in a protected bunker in Lebanon, Kansas. This place belonged to a secret society of wise men currently extinct, which my grandfather was a member of. You're safe here, Jess."

"Safe from what?" she asked, altered. "Protected against who? How did I get here, Sam?"

"Precious..."

"Allow me a moment, Sam," Castiel interrupted, looking at her. "Miss Jessica, could you answer that last question to us, actually? How did you get here, I mean. What do you remember from before?"

"Fire," she choked. "And then... nothing. Everything was normal again, I was at home baking cookies for the welcoming... and suddenly I found myself here in my sleepwear, with a boyfriend that in a couple of days went through some notable makeover."

Sam was staring at her flabbergasted, mouth hanging open. He exchanged a swift glance with the angel, who seemed to understand the situation way better than him.

"Miss Jessica, if I may address you like that," Castiel tried in his most reassuring voice. "Please, do no freak out, but what you speak of was not real. I mean, yes, it was real in a sense, but only for you. Apparently that was your piece of Heaven, Miss Jessica. You were in Heaven because you died in that fire eleven years ago."

The woman inhaled sharply, processing the information, and fighting the urgency of her brain to rebuke that everything was a lie. She was alive, waiting for Sam to come back home after going away with his brother only for a couple of days.

"First, just Jessica is enough, and second... that can't be true," she forced a trembling smile. "Are you mocking me? Because if you wanted to pull a scary prank on someone, let me tell you that you're already two days too late for Halloween."

"Jess, precious..." Sam intervened. "He's telling the truth. And we're not in Halloween either, we're... it's 2016, Jess."

She looked back at him, and saw his eyes glistening with barely contained tears. And then she had to believe it, because the unmistakable sadness reflected there couldn't be fake.

Her own tears ran free. She had died? Just... why? She was young and happy, she was in love... she had her whole life to live. What did she do wrong to have her chance stolen away? Did she deserve to die?

All the while, Sam kept her in his arms. He lovingly stroked her head, taking in her sobbing and weeping on his shoulder. Castiel looked away, distressed, trying not to intrude in an obvious private moment, until eventually the woman calmed down.

"Jess, sit down for a little, ok?" Sam said, pulling out a chair for her. "I'll go to the kitchen and make you an infusion."

She nodded quietly, sitting down. Sam disappeared through the aisle door, and Castiel, not wanting to be left alone with an unstable stranger, followed him.

"Sam," he whispered when they were out of hearing range, but the hunter spoke first.

"Why is she here, Cas?!" he grumbled. "How is it even possible?"

"You should not act so surprised. After all, you and Dean have also come back from the dead, and even with less help."

"What do you mean, 'less help'?"

They had reached the kitchen, so they started talking at a normal level again.

"I already informed you when we got back to the bunker that I received a message. I am an angel and raised Dean from perdition, but that woman there... she was brought back to you by God himself, Sam. As a 'Thank you' gift."

Sam stopped thoughtful, a mug and a tea bag on his hands.

"For real?" he asked, hopeful. "I mean, if... if it was Chuck who brought her back, does that mean she's gonna stay? Forever? She won't... disappear after a couple of hours, right?"

"No, Sam, I do not think she will."

The younger man went silent for a moment, allowing the happiness to sink in. He was still a bit afraid to do it, but wanted so much to believe in the angel's reassuring words.

"By the way, Sam, there is something I want to ask you," Castiel said. "This woman that has suddenly appeared, is she the same Jessica you told me about? The college girlfriend that was killed by your demon-possessed friend Brady?"

"Yes, Cas, that's her."

"Oh, Sam..." the angel cooed compassionately. "Then now I understand why... It is finally obvious why none of your other relationships had a happy end. I am so sorry."

"What?" the hunter frowned, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"It is far from being pleasant to me to compliment a demon in any way, but I must admit that Azazel certainly got his workings very well done. After all, this female that was thrown into your life is your soulmate."

The mug that was in Sam's hand just a second ago crashed to the floor, breaking into pieces. He was frozen on the spot, overwhelmed by what he had just heard.

"What... what again, Cas?"

"She is your soulmate, Sam. Did you not know it?"

"How the heck could I have known it?!" he shouted. "Are... are you even sure?"

"Of course I am. God only created a batch of soulmates, when a few times he loaded a soul with too much information, thus splitting it. It is a very rare occurrence, and even more rare when the halves actually get to meet each other. There is no possibility I would misread the distinct vibe that you two give off together."

"But what does that have to do with the rest of my relationships?"

"If you had met them before Jessica, there might have been a chance of them being fulfilling, but after meeting your soulmate and losing her... No, your soul simply would not have been satisfied enough. Ever again, Sam."

The hunter nodded absentmindedly, absorbing this new information while crouching down to pick up the broken pieces of the mug. It was too much to take in at once, specially having the living object of the issue barely a few metres away, waiting in the library.

"Sam," called the angel, putting a helping hand on his friend's shoulder. "I remember how to make tea myself. Go to her."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Dean returned to the bunker a few hours later, to the immense happiness and relief of his brother and his best friend. He sputtered his surprise for a while when introduced to the subject of Jessica's return, but confirmed that Chuck had wanted to reward them somehow.

He didn't mention Amara's pearl gift, though. That was his own business to deal with.

After a relaxing shower and most needed dinner, he finally laid down in his bed. He felt a bit stupidly amazed that the sun would rise again tomorrow, knowing he had helped to it. By doing so, he had earned the gratitude of an almighty entity, which brought back the black pearl to his mind.

As soon as he was back home, Dean had hid it in the depths of his nightstand drawer. Could he really ask for anything? Did he _want_ to ask for something in the first place? Because man, this kind of things tended to turn dangerous in the long run and bite you in the ass... but it would be nice to have the fridge always stocked with beer, right? As it would be good to have freshly-baked apple pie for the rest of his life, short as that might be. Or an infinite supply of clean underwear for when they had to sleep in cheap motels. Would the pearl be enough to convince Sam to cut his girly hair? Get back the Colt from wherever it was with enough ammo to kill all the demons in Hell...

To resurrect Charlie, or Kevin. To send the remaining lost leviathans to Purgatory. To allow Cas back in Heaven. To free Adam from the Cage.

Dean felt like his brain could burst just thinking about the possibilities. He closed his eyes, intending to sleep and let it be for the night. Tomorrow would be another day.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	2. Chapter 1

_Actually starting at 12x8._

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

Some days later (that the brothers had intended to take free to rest), Dean was enjoying a coffee and a slice of pie for breakfast when Sam came running through the kitchen's door.

"Hey, we still have an unresolved problem if you remember!" he panted, energized by his morning jog.

"Good morning to you too, Sammy," Dean joked. "So soon?"

"Yeah. That's what happens when we overlook very important details in our plan to stop Amara."

"But we did anyway, right? Everything turned out fine."

"No, Dean, not everything is fine. We let Lucifer out, remember?"

The older brother stopped munching for a second, his good mood ruined.

"And from that, I deduce he already did something to attract our attention."

"You mean beside possibly taking hostage the very President of U.S.A., as Crowley told us yesterday? As if that wasn't enough. Finish your breakfast and come to the war room."

"Wait, aren't you gonna eat too?"

At that, Sam looked a little out of place, and Dean finally noticed the dark circles under his eyes.

"Well, I... I already ate with Jess and Cas before. We were up all night explaining a bit of things to her."

"Oh. That's good, I suppose. What things?"

"Not much yet. Just the big picture, no details. Our general line of work and such."

"Is she going to stay here, Sam?" Dean asked, serious.

The younger hunter looked away, feeling unsure.

"I would like that, Dean. It's Jess' decision, of course, but... I've already prepared a room for her, next to the one that was Charlie's. She's sleeping there right now."

"Eh, I have no problem with her staying, you know it," Dean replied. "Wait, you set up a room for Jessica? Why didn't you take her to yours?"

"Are you kidding?" Sam exclaimed, eyes wide open. "We didn't have any contact for eleven years, Dean. She wasn't even aware of being dead for so long. I... I'm not going to force myself on her like that."

Dean kept his mouth shut, feeling like he had got lost at some point of the conversation, for it had no sense to him. Sam had been mourning the loss of his precious babe all this time, and now that he had her back, was afraid of being with her? Anyway, his brother didn't seem to be in the mood to talk about it, so Dean let it be.

After breakfast, he met in the war room with Sam and Castiel. His brother was at his laptop, and both he and the angel had a deep frown on their faces.

"So, what's the matter?" Dean asked.

"Look at this."

Sam showed him a video he had saved on the PC. It was an interview with the President no less! Dean watched uninterested, politics not being his cup of tea, until he saw a strange red reflection in the man's eyes. It was barely an instant, making him doubt he had actually seen it; but a couple of minutes later it happened again, and once more before the short conversation ended.

"What the hell...?" Dean sputtered. "Please, tell me that wasn't what I think it was."

"If by any chance you're thinking that Lucifer has possessed him as his default vessel, then yes, you're totally right," Sam sighed, resting his face on his hands. "Just what Crowley tried to convince us of yesterday. Here we have the proof."

"That son of a bitch," Dean spoke, starting to pace around the room. "Just our luck to have a president able to contain the Devil! There's no way we can exorcise him. We won't be able to even get close enough, much less kidnap him."

"I wonder what Lucifer thinks he is doing," Castiel said, frowning. "The meatsuit that he obtained from Nick was good enough to retain its shape even in Hell, he did not need another. But Lucifer went and took one of the most powerful humans on Earth, who by the way, must have accepted him willingly. And yet, he does not seem to be causing any trouble."

"You said it, not _yet_ , dammit!" the Righteous Man cursed. "Who knows what wicked plans must be running wild through his mind? Oh man, and here I thought he had reconciled with daddy dear."

"Yeah, same here," Sam murmured. "Hey Cas, do you know... I mean, if by any chance, did he leave you with some kind of clue about his intentions?"

"From the time I let myself be taken over?" Castiel shook his head. "No, sorry. I did not present any resistance to him, thus I was not privy to his possible future plans."

Dean grunted under his breath. The fact that the angel had believed he needed to sacrifice himself _again_ in order to save humanity was still a sore subject for the hunter. His best friend had already done more than enough, in his opinion; he deserved some solace. If this went on, Dean feared that someday they'll run out of luck to have him back, and didn't want that to happen.

"In any case," Sam concluded, "whatever it is that Lucifer intends to do, I don't think we'll be able to fend him off just by ourselves. Last time we had Chuck blocking his power over us, and the previous time Michael served as distraction for their epic battle, but now... I really think we should call other hunters to help us."

"Other hunters?" Dean repeated, incredulous. "What do you mean, other hunters? _We_ let Lucifer out, so _we_ are going to put him back in the Cage. It's our business to deal with, and perhaps along the way we possibly could..."

He stopped talking, unable to hold Sam's look. It didn't matter anyway, since both of them knew who they were thinking about.

"No, Dean. Forgive me but I disagree," argued the younger hunter. "Lucifer is not your common demon, it's the Devil. And yes, we were the ones that let him out, but this is a world-wide matter we are discussing here. We _need_ help."

The older brother grumbled, pacing again. He couldn't deny the truth thrown at his face, and that made him angry.

"Ok, ok! Let's seek help. Let's drag other people into this. It's what hunters are for after all, right? Who have you thought about, Sammy?"

"Your sarcasm is not appreciated. Cas, you side with me?"

The angel was startled for a second, since he didn't expect to participate in the argument. What should he answer? Of course, the preferable route would be to side with the Righteous Man, but given the current circumstances...

"Well, as much as I would despise the idea of putting more people in danger, in this particular situation I would advice that... 'the more the merrier'?" he finally said, quoting in the air.

Sam smiled smugly to his brother. As few times as it happened, he knew that whenever Castiel agreed with him, Dean wouldn't argue anymore. Yeah, score for Sam!

"We'll have to consider more options, but for starters I'd call Eileen, Garth..."

"Wait, Garth?!" Dean interrupted. "You want to call Garth?"

"Yes, why not? I know he turned werewolf, but he's still a hunter. And I thought you were fond of him."

"I am. Sorta. But he's not just a hunter, he's a married man. You know, with the whole trying to settle down, living a peaceful life, maybe having a pup or two... Not active anymore it's what I'm trying to say, so leave him out of this."

"But..."

"And Eileen? For hell's sake, she is..."

"She is what?" Sam repeated, his voice somehow defensive.

"She's free, Sam. Finally got her peace of mind after many years chasing down the banshee that killed her parents. The girl deserves to enjoy a bit of life now, don't you think?"

Sam deeply sighed, frustrated. Of course he thought the same, but they still needed help. More names ran through his mind (Mackey, Wally, Tracy Bell, Rick, Jerry, Tamara...), but something told him that his big brother was going to rebuke all of them one way or another.

"Ok, so you don't want to involve any hunters. Then _who_ are you suggesting we call for help? Demons? Oh, I know. How about good ol' friend Crowley? Or maybe a witch, like Rowena?"

"Hey, don't you dare put that one on me, buddy," Dean pointed an accusing finger at Sam. "You alone called her way more times than I ever did Crowley. And at least with him we kinda know what to expect."

"Yeah, of course. So what's your plan, Dean? Any good ideas here?"

"No, I have none, ok?! Just shut the fuck up!"

With that Dean turned away, nervously threading his fingers through his hair, trying to calm down. It didn't work, until he felt a comforting hand on his left shoulder.

"Dean," Castiel spoke softly. "We will find a way, as we always do together. Do not despair."

The hunter looked at him, and almost instantly felt a wave a peace wash all over his body, as usual whenever Castiel reassured him. His breathing calmed, and his heart beat steadier.

"I need another coffee," he sighed, slumping on a chair.

"I will make you a cup. Do you want another, Sam?"

"Yes, Cas. Thank you."

Castiel made his way to the kitchen and started the coffee machine. He was worried about Dean, but that was nothing new. His best friend had just barely avoided to explode in tiny cells in order to stop the Darkness, and still there he was, already head-stuck in another crisis without any real time to rest. It hurt him to think that the Righteous Man never has a chance to look for his own happiness, always alert for the next time the world needed to be saved (or his brother, or his messed-up custodian angel, or even himself).

He wanted to bring Dean happiness, he wanted it so much. But he was scared, because every time he had tried to do something good, he had failed. Everything had crumbled to the ground like a castle of cards. Eventually, Castiel had started to believe that maybe he simply wasn't designed to bring joy to others. After all, he was an angel, and angels were created to obey and nothing more. It was still a painful belief, though.

At least he still could make coffee. That would make Dean a bit happier, even if just for a moment.

However, even such easy task was apparently doomed to fail. Castiel was already on his way back to the library, carrying two mugs of hot coffee, when suddenly he received a highwave in his brain, the screech actually so high that made him lose his balance and let the two mugs crashing onto the floor.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Meanwhile, back in the library, the conversation between the brothers hadn't advanced too much. At least not until they received the visit of an uninvited guest.

"Dean, please... I know this isn't to your liking, but you can't really expect we deal with him on our own and actually win!"

"Listen to the moose." The King of Hell appeared out of thin air, with a sardonic smile plastered on his face and an old, small suede bag in his hand. "After all, between you two, he's the brain and you're the brawl."

"Crowley!" Dean grunted, annoyed. "Hey, just because we lowered down the wardings in case of extreme necessity, doesn't mean you can abuse them and pop here whenever you want."

"Oh, I beg you pardon, squirrel. I just couldn't live another minute without looking at your pretty face." He made his way to them and put the bag on the table. "And here I was, thinking I could act the part of a kind soul and help each other to get that devilish pain-in-the-arse out of our lives."

"Do you have a plan?" Sam asked, since his brother wasn't in the mood.

Crowley paused for an instant.

"A plan of sorts... no, not yet. But I have this," and he opened the bag, taking out a golden egg with strange symbols carved. "I ransacked Hell's vaults to the last speck of dust, and found it there. This may be the first time that I'm actually glad Hell becomes chaotic the moment you look away. Nobody noticed my little Juliet sniffing around."

Both Winchesters looked at the odd object, not sure what to make of it.

"And what are we supposed to do with a Fabergé egg?" Dean asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I'm surprised you even know who Fabergé was," Crowley half-laughed. "But this is not a toy, it's a powerful and very valuable instrument against the forces of evil."

"... Ok, I'll bite. What movie have you taken that line from?"

"Please, time-out you two. Crowley, what exactly is that thing?"

The King of Hell sat down on a chair and made himself comfortable. A second later, a glass of scotch appeared in front of him on the table.

"This egg is an extremely old artifact, crafted by an advanced legendary civilization now sunken and lost in the ocean. Apparently, it can exorcise a demon from its vessel with no major damage for the poor and frail human. It needs a spell to activate, but it's a start at least."

"What do you mean with 'apparently'?" Sam frowned. "Haven't you tested it?"

"You see, this thing was created _against_ demons, meaning no demon can make it work. Probably only a human will do."

"That's nice to hear, I'm all in for another toy against you smoke-bitches," Dean commented. "But what use is to us now? We're trying to deal with an angel, an ARCHangel actually, not a demon."

"Well, there you have a point, squirrel. But I have studied the carvings on the egg to the best of my knowledge, which I assure you is nothing short, and didn't find anything explicit to only demons. My belief is that this might work against any supernatural being, angel and archangel included. Also, let's not forget that Lucifer it's still the Devil, no matter his angelic origin. Maybe that counts for something?"

Dean was about to let out another of his witty replies, when they heard a crashing sound coming from the kitchen. He was immediately on his feet, Sam in tow.

"Cas?!"

The hunter arrived hastily to the kitchen, only to see his best friend clutching his head in pain.

"Cas? Cas, hey!"

"Something has happened. Something... angel radio... there are so many voices!"

"What are they saying?" Sam asked.

"There has been a massive surge in celestial energy. A nephilim has come into being... it is the offspring of an angel and a human."

"And that's big news?" Dean frowned.

"Yes, but the power to produce this is immense! It's much, much greater than a typical angel."

A deadpan came over Sam's face. He understood instantly what that meant.

"Lucifer."

"Lucifer?" Dean repeated, somewhat impressed. "I didn't know he was dating."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The night was silent in the bunker. Although, of course, living twenty miles from your nearest neighbour meant all the silence you could desire. Dean was finishing his last research in _Busty A-_ ahem, last research in something totally innocent and preparing to call it a day, when a female figure made her way to the chair in front of him. She was wearing a comfortable but really big t-shirt, and what Dean was sure were his little brother's swimming trunks, which reached her calves.

"Hello," she said, smiling coyly.

"Jessica, hello." Dean smiled back. "Is something the matter? Do you need anything?"

"No, I'm fine, thanks. Just trying to get back into the living life and all."

The hunter chuckled a little. He knew how it was.

"It takes a few days, don't rush it. Been there, done that."

"Uh, yes. Sam told me about your... trip downstairs."

Dean chuckled again.

"No need to be delicate with me, Jessica. It was a long time ago. You can talk to me as frankly as you want."

"Well, that's nice for a change."

His smile vanished, being replaced by a worried frown.

"What you mean?"

"Sam doesn't talk to me," she answered sadly, crossing a leg and resting her chin on the knee.

"Oh. He went to bed half an hour ago. If you had come out a bit early..."

"I know he did. It's not that, but..." Jessica sighed, her eyes wandering around. "Even if we are in the same room, we don't really _talk_. He comes and visits me, and tries to explain a lot of things about how the world is nowadays, and the things you two do, and everything that has happened since I died, and... etc., a lot of etc., but we haven't had a real conversation yet. It's all like a never-ending lesson."

"Hum..." Dean grunted. "Listen, Jessica..."

"Just Jess is ok, Dean."

"Right, Jess. You see, I'm not good at this feely talking or whatever, so I'm gonna be frank with you too," he tried to be soft. "Right now, we have a big thing in our hands to deal with; actually, we always seem to have something going on, so you better get used to it asap. What I mean is that you're another one of those big things to Sam, you get it? Believe me, I know you are. He has been mourning you every single day since you died. I'm sure he's overwhelmed with happiness for your return, but right now... we really need to deal with Lucifer. Probably, that's all he can think about at the moment."

Jessica nodded a bit in understanding, though still sad.

"You're telling me to give him some time, aren't you?"

"Yeah. More or less, that's the idea."

They both kept quiet for a while, until a sudden moan escaped from Dean's laptop. He auto-reflexively closed the screen, looking sorta embarrassed at Jessica.

"You heard nothing."

"Sure..." she said, smiling funny. "Were you being a naughty boy, Dean?"

Dean opened his mouth, surprised. He couldn't help but laugh.

"You know, that would've been kinda sexy if you weren't my little brother's girl."

"Thanks for the compliment, I guess." She stood up. "I'm going to make myself a coffee. Also, I feel lucky that I studied History at Stanford, or else I wouldn't know how to make that prehistoric machine work."

"Well, being a hunter doesn't exactly pay off in banknotes!" Dean joked. "Though I guess we should get you some clothes of your own at least. Goodnight, Jess."

"Goodnight, Dean."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

If there was a single law that the Winchesters never failed to have blown up on their faces, it was certainly Murphy's Law. Every single time. One way or another. And this hadn't been the exception.

Everything had started pretty good. The complete Brady Bunch reunited in a cheap motel room to further discuss the route to take, to hone the details, and to decipher the spell to use with the Fabergé egg (yes, Dean's nickname had rubbed on them because nobody was able to tell what the hell the ancient artifact's name actually was). Crowley teleported away to retrieve the mother of Lucifer's future kid, Rowena made nice introductions, and Castiel showed her that what she carried was anything but an innocent child. Kelly Kline had been heartbroken, both for the truth about her baby and for the fact that the man she loved had been possessed by the Devil. Because, well... did that even count as infidelity?

Then "Vote Lucifer for President" had arrived and mayhem ensued. A bluff here, a spell there, protect Rosemary and eggie do your thing, yada yada all done and everyone happy. But of course, dear ol' Murphy had to grace them with his presence: the King of Hell and the witch vanished, the angel took away the only human witness, and the two hunter brothers were left to fend for themselves against the Secret Service. Yay.

The good news? Lucifer was back in the Cage. The bad? Kelly Kline had escaped from Castiel and was currently MIA, while Dean and Sam were taken prisoners to a high security site.

Really, just an average day in everyone's lives.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	3. Chapter 2

_Beware Dean's foul language!_

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

Castiel was disheartened when he went back to the motel room and saw that Dean and Sam were nowhere to be found. Something had had to happen, he knew his friends wouldn't have left without telling him, specially when he was supposed to come back with Kelly Kline after she calmed down a bit. The disarray of the room only added to his suspicions about a possible struggle. He tried several times to call the brothers, but they didn't answer. That means they were either in danger or somehow unable to pick up the damn phone, which was never a good sign.

Not knowing what else to do, Castiel returned to the bunker. There he met with the newest addition to the family, Jessica, wearing another set of too big clothes and eating a bowl of cereals.

"Castiel?" she recognized immediately the distress on the angel's face. "What's wrong? What about the Devil? Where's Sam?"

"Lucifer is back in the Cage," he informed her. "We succeeded in our endeavour, but some sort of mishap happened while I was out. I... I lost track of the pregnant woman, and then Dean and Sam disappeared."

"Disappeared?!" Jessica squeaked, her breakfast forgotten. "Ok, listen... I-I admit I'm still trying to fit back in life, and I don't know anything about this supernatural world you all are so immersed in, but... but even here, disappearing can't be a good thing, right? Please, tell me I'm wrong, that this is just some strange but usual occurrence and there's nothing to worry about."

"My apologies, Jessica, but I would prefer not to start our possible future friendship with lies," Castiel said apologetically, looking down.

There was silence for a minute, none of the two strangers knowing what to say to each other.

"So, well... what's the plan? When this kind of thing happens, which I'm getting the feeling is quite a lot, what do you guys do?"

"Most of the time, we try to deal with it ourselves in the best way we can, which is not actually very good on the long run. But when things take a turn for the worse, we also deal with it."

Jessica looked seriously at the angel, like expecting to hear it was a joke, a bad joke. But he didn't say anything else.

"That doesn't sound healthy in the least. It's more like a vicious circle."

"Well, we..." Castiel surrendered to the truth. "Yes, in reality it is."

She took again the spoon and stirred the already soggy, unappetizing cereals in the bowl. She used to do that, an easy automatic motion, whenever she felt distraught. Castiel felt bad for barely knowing her a few days and being already the bearer of such discouraging news.

"I will find them, Jessica," he tried to cheer her up. "Dean and Sam, safe and sound. We have gone through many adventures together, and somehow we have managed just fine until this point, more or less. Eventually, everything always seems to sort out. Have faith."

"Thanks, Castiel," she acknowledged him. "I just feel so helpless, and useless too... Is there anything I can do?"

"Jessica, you have just come back from the dead. No one is expecting you to do anything except to get back on track with your life, and even that, I am confident Sam intended to help you with."

She let a flash of a smile grace her lips, praying her new angel companion wouldn't be wrong, and Sam would come back uninjured.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 **Six days***. It had been only six damn days and Dean already felt bored out of his fucking mind! He needed to get out, _really_ needed to get out. Being alone with himself was the worst that anybody could do to him. Those heartless bastards... how was he supposed to ignore all the shit in his life when he only had himself to be entertained? Oh, Chuck bless that bolt he was able to take out of the cot. It had helped him to connect with his inner artist, because those six lines on the wall looked absolutely awesome, mind you.

Had Sam found any bolt to play with too? Dean hoped so, although knowing his nerdy brother... he probably was entertaining himself reciting the Periodic Table or the Constitution Amendments. He had tried to do the same with all the Vonnegut books he had read in his life, speeching his opinion on them to himself, and even tried to hold an argument defending the opposite. That made Dean realize two things: one, he wasn't that great of a speaker for anything not related to the supernatural; and two, he was one bitchy oppositor. He barely had let himself talk before interrupting himself!

Anyway, Dean had stopped before he felt the need to punch himself just so he would shut the fuck up. That probably was the sane thing to do.

And Cas? Oh, the poor angel was surely worried sick about them. Dean laid down on the bed, looking at the ceiling, trying to make out his best friend's face in the boring grey metal. He imagined him running around, desperate to find the littlest clue about why they weren't in the motel room when he came back, and why they weren't picking their phones. A small chuckle escaped his lips, and Dean felt kinda bad for it. He couldn't help it, but knowing Cas was out there looking for him- ahem, for _them_ , never failed to bring a warm, soothing sensation to his heart. It was nice to know that someone out there still cared, and he knew Cas did. Sometimes he even cared way too much, completely forgetting to look out for himself.

Boy, Dean hated when Cas did that. Somebody should teach that feathered-ass to love himself a bit more.

At least he had prayed to him, to let the angel know that he and Sam were unharmed. Such a pity he didn't have the slightest idea where the hell they were, thus making impossible for his friend to help them get out of these fucking cells. Sometimes, the carvings in their ribs were more annoying than helpful... but of course, he wasn't going to say that to Cas, specially when those artistic graffiti also kept the other angels at bay.

Whatever, six days were more than enough to commiserate oneself, and Dean was already fed up with it. They needed a plan to escape, and he... he just had an idea. Once again he started to pray, but it was to another completely different being this time.

"Hey Billie, this is Dean Winchester. You there?"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Castiel was barely less than ecstatic. He had received a call from Dean, finally! It had despaired him not be able to get to his human charges, but hearing Dean's prayers had helped him to keep it together. And after six days of uneasiness, the brothers had finally taken the matter in their own hands and made an escape. Fortunately, because that unholy-son-of-a-witch of Crowley hadn't bothered to move a single finger when Castiel swallowed his pride and asked for his help. Apparently, the King of Hell wasn't in the least worried with the case of MIA Winchesters, laughing it off as a mere joke. And look at this, he had been right. Figures.

"Jessica!" Castiel shouted the moment the set a foot on the stairs, the joy evident in his voice. "Jessica, where are you? Dean has called me!"

But the woman didn't answer. She was probably wandering around the bunker, getting comfortable in the odd settlement, so Castiel looked for her. He started on the bedroom that Sam had assigned to her, one of the few that actually had a window, but she wasn't there. He proceeded to the showers and knocked on the door, but no response was heard. He was about to call out for her again, when right after turning a corner, he found her standing in front of Sam's bedroom closed door.

"Jessica, what are you doing?" he went to her side.

"I miss Sam," she answered with a strained voice, gently caressing the wood. "It's strange, you know. I've been alive only a week and a half, but somehow... all those eleven years that I was dead still weight in my heart. During the few days we were together I mostly slept. Isn't it stupid? Anyone would think that after so much time 'sleeping' I should be full of energy, but instead I was tired. I felt so, so tired."

"It is not stupid," Castiel tried to offer comfort. "Human souls are lightweight, pure tamed energy. They do not carry the burden of cells, and they do not have any physical functions. Having to make all of that work again sounds like no small effort. I was basically human a couple of times, so I know."

"Thanks, Castiel," Jessica smiled a little. "It's nice to have such a kind angel like you here with me. I'm glad I've had the chance to meet you."

Now it was the angel who struggled to let his voice out, which didn't go unnoticed by her.

"What's the matter? Did I say something wrong?"

"No, not at all. It is only that... it has been some time since anyone told me they were glad to have met me. It seems like a really... really long time."

"Why? But I thought you've been friends with Sam and Dean since several years already. Aren't they happy too?"

"I did not mean it like that," Castiel tried to explain. "I know they feel affection for me, that they consider me an important friend, but sometimes... There have been times when I believed they were just withstanding my company, due to all the bad things that I have done. Thus having another human who I have just met telling me that you are happy to become my acquaintance... it makes me happy. Very happy."

"Castiel," Jessica spoke softly, holding one of his hands in hers. "There are still many things that I must learn and understand about this lifestyle, but among everything that Sam has told me about you, the one he repeated the most is that you only did what you thought was truly right. Sometimes you were wrong and it ended bad, but you 'always had your heart in the right place', quoting Dean's words."

Castiel felt reassured by the woman's and the brothers' faith in him, specially by the Righteous Man's.

"I appreciate the sentiment, Jessica."

"You're welcome. Now, were you looking for me?"

"Oh, yes! This is not time to lose in idle misconceptions. I have to pick up Dean and Sam in Colorado!"

The angel hastily turned back, intending to leave immediately, and forcing Jessica to jog after him.

"The WHAT?! How do you know they are in Colorado? Did you find them?"

"Not exactly. Dean has been praying to me, but he did not know where they were being held, making it impossible for me to locate them. But somehow, today they succeeded in making an escape and called me by phone. Their instructions were not very specific, but enough for me to be able to reach them, or so I hope. I wanted to inform you before I take my leave."

"What are you saying, 'taking your leave'? I'm coming too, of course!"

This made Castiel stop dead in his tracks, causing Jessica to bump onto his back.

"Jessica, I highly advice you against this course of action," he spoke serious.

"That's too bad, because I don't remember asking for your advice," she insisted, rubbing her nose. "I said I'm going with you and that's final."

He sighed in exasperation at the human's stubbornness, but he recognized the signs. All his human experiences had taught him that it would take less time giving in and allowing her to tag along than to try to reason with her, and time was precious at the moment. He just hoped Sam wouldn't be too furious with him.

"Very well, if so you wish. But we will need to make a stop in a fashion shop first." He gave her a look up-down before turning tail again and take route to Dean's bedroom. "I will search some false credit cards in Dean's room, you do the same in Sam's."

"Yes, sir!" Jessica playfully agreed before her brain completely registered the command given. "Hold on, what do you mean 'false credit cards'?"

"A hunter's life is hard and unforgiving. In order to survive, there are times when they have to make use of... questionable resources."

His voice and steps got lost in the distance, leaving her dumbfounded in the hallway.

"Oh my... Has my puppy become a scammer?"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Many hours and many kilometres later, Dean was sulking in the backseat of Cas' Lincoln, with said angel pouting beside him. Jessica was just too happy that she still remembered how to drive, and Sam was attempting to make small chat. However, the mood inside the car was too sour for that.

After escaping the secret site and playing hide-and-seek in the woods with the secret corps, Dean and Sam had found the road. They walked three or four kilometres before finding a road sign that said 'Kilometer 80'. Then the older hunter had prayed to the angel and told him their exact location, and barely half an hour after, the four of them were reunited again. Castiel had gone back to the site and wiped the memories of everyone implicated in the Winchester case, giving them a blank plate once more. Or that was what Jessica and the seraph thought, because Dean hadn't had the heart to tell them how exactly he and Sam got out. But a deal was a deal, and at the appointed hour of midnight, the car had stopped on its own and Billie stood proudly in front of them.

But now Billie was dead. The reaper that they had made a blood deal with, because Castiel had killed her. And Dean was paranoid about the 'cosmic consequences', because c'mon, nothing like that is ever good. Not for them at least.

The worst part, though... The hunter trembled inside his skin just thinking about it. It hadn't been him to break the deal, because when he called Billie for help, he had every intention of doing his part; and it hadn't been Sam either, because... yes, he had dragged his little brother into the plan, but never planned of allowing him to die in his stead. Dean was the one who was going to say goodbye once and for all, until... until Cas stabbed the reaper and broke the deal. Not him, not Sam, but an angel who had no part in it and still interfered. That was why Dean was currently looking at the night through his window and not paying the littlest attention to his feathered friend.

Cas. Cosmic consequences. That couldn't lead to anything good.

Again. Once again he had forced his best friend to take drastic measures in order to protect them, to protect _him_. Dean closed his eyes and rested his forehead on the cold glass. He simply couldn't stop, right? When was he to finally learn that for Cas, his own safety was always second to Dean's? How many times did the angel show how much he meant to him? And still, Dean had stupidly thought that he could simply die and Cas would be ok with it, right?

Dean wasn't even sure who he was angrier with, himself or Cas. But he knew he was going to sulk about it for a while yet.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sam was looking randomly at the shelves in the library, wanting something light to read before bed, when Jessica walked in. After spotting her, he immediately grabbed whatever book it was and sat in one of the luxurious armchairs, feigning to be busy with some research. Seeing this, the woman sighed with sadness.

"Please, Sam, stop doing that."

Her tone was hurt. Sam looked up to her, frowning in confusion.

"Doing what?"

"Feigning that you haven't seen me, or pretending to do anything else so you can avoid talking to me," she explained, sitting on the armchair in front of Sam's.

"I haven't..." he started, but she was right, and he was tired of it too. "Yes, I had. I-I'm sorry, Jess. I didn't mean to hurt you, it's just... with everything that's been happening lately, first with Lucifer and his baby, then that poor woman killing angels for revenge, and Dean losing his memory, and... Haa, it has been a really crappy month."

"I guess it was. Though, if I'm not wrong, that's pretty much how you roll now, Mr. Hunter."

Sam allowed himself a little smile, putting down the random book on the small table next to him. Sometimes he still couldn't believe she had really come back to life, to him. That he really could stretch his hand and caress her face, hug her body, kiss her lips. He was afraid to give in and believe that she was real, only to suddenly wake up and discover it was all a dream. Or perhaps another one of his hazy delusions.

"That mini-skirt looks good on you, by the way."

"Oh, I'm glad to hear someone else thinks the same," she chuckled. "Because when I went to the shop with Castiel, he asked me if I was sure this was 'appropriate attire to display in public', air-quotes and all."

"I should've gone shopping with you on the first day," Sam said, dejected. "Sorry, it slipped my mind again and again. There always seems to be something that I need to take care of, and..."

"Sam, it's ok. It doesn't matter anymore," she reassured him, taking one of his hands. "I understand now why you never told me anything about your family, or your past. However, there's something that I've..."

She paused mid-sentence, because Sam had taken her comforting hand in both his and gripped tightly. He scooted closer to her in his armchair, elbows on knees, and closed his eyes, holding her hand in a prayer-esque gesture, his forehead bowed down.

"Every day when I see you," he whispered, "I still need to convince myself that you're real, and not a figment of my imagination going amok."

"Please, hear me out, Sam." Jessica tried again. "Since I've arrived here, I've had enough time to figure out a few things, and you deserve to know them."

"Like what?"

"I've been selfish, you big puppy," she said tenderly, patting their interlaced hands with her free one. "The moment I first saw you in this bunker, I wasn't aware of what had happened, how much time had already passed. I thought everything was still the same, that we were still the same... _us_. But it isn't, and we aren't."

"Jess..."

"Don't deny it, Sam." She sighed deeply, her eyes starting to prickle with wetness. "I know you've been busy with this crazy life you lead now, but... you never try anymore to get close to me, you barely look me in the eye, and it's difficult for you to even hold a real conversation with me. Look, I understand it, ok? It has been more than a decade for you, and I don't blame you for moving on and starting a life with another person. What I mean with this is... that I don't feel I should stay. My presence here bothers you, like I'm getting in your and your brother's way, and..."

She couldn't say anything else, because in one swift motion Sam fell on his knees, freed one of his hands to put it behind her neck, and kissed her earnestly. Jessica only took a second to realize the situation before kissing him back.

"I beg you, Jess, my precious love..." he uttered against her mouth. "Delete all those thoughts from your mind, because believe me, you don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about. There's nothing, absolutely nothing, that I want more than you staying by my side forever."

They kept still, foreheads touching, Jessica looking directly at him and her eyes shedding tears.

"I tried to move on after you, I really tried," Sam spilt the truth. "There was Lori, but it was too soon; and there was Sarah, and Madison, and Amelia... God, even Ruby, which I still regret immensely. But it never worked out, for one reason or another. They were all great women in their own way, but none of them were you, Jess. Because it didn't matter how long ago it was, your memory continued to wander my heart and mind."

"Then why were you keeping me at bay, Sam? I wanted to be with you."

"Jess..." His voice was hoarse, and he noticed he was crying just like her. "You don't know yet half the things I've been through. I bear more scars than I can count, and not all of them on my body. I'm already in my thirties, living a damned life where every day I get to survive is almost a miracle; you instead are an innocent and beautiful young woman that got another chance to live her life and fulfill her dreams. I don't want to steal that away from you."

"Sam," she took his face on her hands, caressing his cheeks with her thumbs. "My life and dreams are important only because you are in them. What use would I have of this chance if I can't share it with the person I love the most?"

They kissed again, tenderly, passionately. No more words were necessary.

Sam kept crying a little longer on Jessica's lap, letting out all his bottled-up feelings, while she patted gently his head like the big puppy she knew he was. At some point she rested her head on his, when heard steps approaching from the hallway, likely Dean coming their way. The older Winchester barely peeked at the library when he saw them and decided not to interrupt their caring embrace. Getting out as cautiously silent as he could, he hoped his little brother had already made out (made up, whatever) with his babe.

* * *

 _ ***I know it was six weeks,** not six days. But as I've told you, I'm rushing this._

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	4. Chapter 3

_Keep calm and ship Destiel!_

 _Keep calm and ship Samsica!_

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

A new case had led Winchester&Co. to, apparently, a demon. They had been contacted by their fellow hunter Wally and the brothers had decided to go, since a demon was always a tricky thing to deal with. Castiel had tagged along, since unfortunately no new clues about Kelly Kline's whereabouts were found, and thus he had nothing better to do. The surprise of the group was, however, Jessica. The woman had rejected to be left alone in the bunker again even if just for a few days, and Sam, always the tender heart, had finally given in.

"I'm not going to get in the middle of the fight, I promise," she had told the brothers a hundred times. "Believe me, I have no desire to die again so soon, but I don't want to remain caged here either. I'll go with you, walk around a bit stretching my legs, and when you get to business I'll hide in the car far enough not to endanger anyone. So please? Pretty pleeeaaaseee?"

And so it was settled. Dean was already beginning to fear Jessica's puppy eyes and pleading voice.

So in the afternoon, they had met with Wally at a diner, close enough to where the supposed demon lived. The diner wasn't that bad, for once. It looked clean, had acceptable relaxing background music, and also a distinctive smell that the food being cooked was fresh. They even had a tablecloth! The waitress was beautiful too, as Dean immediately noticed the moment he set a foot inside the place.

" _Mandy,_ " Dean spoke in a flirty voice, reading her nametag when she came to take their order. "That short for Amanda?"

She looked at him, showing no interest at all, and merely said:

"Duh."

Ok, so the pretty waitress lacked a bit in good manners. Whatever, nobody was perfect.

"Yeah, I'll... I'll go with the cheeseburger."

"Please, what's the wifi password here?" Sam asked her, trying to get his tablet to work.

"Extra cheese."

"No, no. Just, uh, as it is, is fine." Dean didn't notice the waitress' attention had left him. Why would?

"I mean that's the password, 'extra cheese'."

Then Wally, who had been looking at his menu the whole time and didn't know there was two conversations going on, added:

"You know what, that sounds good. I'm gonna order a cheeseburger as well, with extra cheese. I wanna carbo-load."

"Cheese isn't a carbohydrate," both Castiel and the waitress corrected him at the same time.

That seemed to impress her, for whatever reason. She smiled at the angel, interested, who didn't know better than to respond with a confused stare.

"Sausages and scrambled eggs for me, please," Jessica said.

The waitress nodded lightly, taking note, before she addressed Castiel:

"And how about you, handsome?"

This earned a look of surprise from everyone, while the clueless angel continued to stare at her in confusion.

"Hum, uh... a Sunrise Special, please."

"Nice!" she approved, smiling.

The second she left the table, Dean couldn't wait to stick his nose in the matter.

"Oh dude, she's so into you!" and beside him, Wally grumbled in agreement.

"Dean!" Jessica chastised him, barely holding a giggle.

"No, this is good! We've been looking for teachable moments, and this is just the one."

Sam, sensing this wouldn't lead to anything remarkable except Dean's amusement at the expense of their feathered friend, made a valiant attempt to divert the conversation to another subject:

"The internet here sucks. I downloaded all the bunker's files to a new archive, but I'm not getting any signal, so..."

"Who cares!" Dean faked snoring. "Hey Cas, here's what you need to know about waitresses, okay? They get hit on all day long, so you gotta bring your best game. But, upside? They always smell like food."

"That they do," Wally nodded again.

"Why would you want them to smell like food?" Sam was about to surrender to his fate of a stupid conversation.

Fortunately, Jessica sensed he was at his wits end, and decided to help him redirect the chat.

"Okay, here's what we know. Your target keeps a tight schedule. He leaves every day at 8p.m. and gets back exactly at 10.45p.m."

"What's he doing?" Dean asked Wally.

"Night fishing."

"Wait a minute," Castiel interrupted, befuddled. "You called us to... to kill a demon that likes to fish?"

"Yes, I did. Look," Wally tried to explain himself. "This is new to me, alright? If you got a rugaru, I'm your guy, but demons? I was just passing by and heard about some cattle mutilations..."

"Classic demon sign," Sam nodded in understanding.

"So I started to dig, and some virgins went missing too."

"Which is why you called Sam and Dean, asking for help," Jessica concluded. "So are we all clear on the plan?"

"Jess, don't forget you also promised _your_ part of the plan, precious."

"I know, I know," she sighed reassuringly. "I'll be still and quiet, hiding in Wally's jeep. The demon won't even know there's someone else out there."

"I really hope so," Sam whispered. "Oh, here she comes back!"

Castiel, influenced by the strange comments about food and females, couldn't help but discreetly sniff the waitress when she served their orders next to him. Well, as discreetly as he could anyway. Dean saw it right away, same as everybody else at the table, and smirked deviously. Before he could check again with his brain what he was about to say, the words spilled from his mouth:

"Hey Mandy, a question for you. My shy but devastatingly handsome friend here was just wondering... when do you get off?"

The waitress smiled again, pleased by this.

"Whenever I can," she answered, looking flirtingly at the angel before going away again.

"One point for her. Just dropped that on the table!"

"Right in front of all of us, too!" Wally laughed.

However Sam, being the mature one, decided he didn't want any part in his friend's embarrassment.

"Wow, alright. Internet's up, we're in business."

"I'm kinda nervous," Wally said, clearing his throat. "I don't even know if I can eat."

Perceiving the hunter's distress, Jessica tried to reassure him.

"Everything's gonna be fine."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

An hour later, they arrived at a typical country house by the roadside. Hiding behind the line of trees, where nobody from the house could spot them, they patiently awaited the moment when the demon was scheduled to leave his home. And he did. They waited a little more, just to be sure he wasn't coming back.

"It does not appear to be warded," Castiel evaluated, walking cautiously to the house.

"Okay, then let's get to work," Dean said.

Step by step, looking around carefully, the group of five entered the demon's property. There wasn't anything particularly evil in there, as much as anyone could tell: a well painted facade, a well-kept garden, and a porch whose planks didn't even squeak; probably not even the roof leaked. All in all, a well maintained home, nothing that screamed of hell and sulphur.

Once they were all inside, each went to their accorded post.

"Sam?" Jessica asked while wandering around, seeing him alone. "Where's Dean?"

"He's out stashing the car. Wait, Jess," he called after her. "Uh... I just wanted to make sure that you're okay. I mean, because this isn't... this isn't the kind of life I once dreamed to share with you."

Something tightened in the woman's heart. She came next to him and tenderly caressed his cheek.

"I'm more than grateful to have a life with you, Sam." She kissed him lightly. " _Any_ kind of life."

Not wanting to distract him anymore from his tasks, apparently drawing some trap on the floor, Jessica continued her wander around the house. Looking out a window, she saw Castiel standing guard on the path. She was happy to have come, not only for being outside the bunker but also because there was something exciting about this. Not enough to convince her of joining the fight, of course... but enough to accept it as part of her life, even if just as a side-effect of living with Sam and this hunting business. It also scared her, no lying... but it was worthy. For love, all was in her book.

Opening a door, she saw it led downstairs, likely to a basement. It was the only room in that floor she hadn't snooped in yet, and she couldn't contain her curiosity. Carefully, she searched the light switch and went down.

It was smaller than what Jessica anticipated, obviously not covering all the foundations of the house, or perhaps it looked like that because it was packed to the brim. Countless items were scattered around, all looking antique and valuable (and she would know, having studied History at university). The idea of a collector demon made her giggle. And it was equally obvious this demon took very good care of his pieces, since all of them were stacked orderly and without a single speck of dust on them, despite being in the basement.

Her fingers tingled in anticipation, aching to touch every single item... but Jessica knew better. Sam had warned her endlessly against the kind of objects she may find in the bunker and during hunts; he had told her to never touch anything she couldn't identify, no matter how innocent or harmless it looked; and certainly, most of what she was seeing looked quite harmful. All except... a box, a square black box, or better said a small chest, that even looked too plain to be put in company of all the other items. She couldn't resist not to touch absolutely _anything_ , and decided to go for the least dangerous piece in sight.

Jessica opened the chest easily, it didn't even have a security lock. Inside she saw a revolver, an old one as she could tell, but somehow it still looked functional. Maybe it still worked? Weaponry wasn't her specialty, she didn't know what kind of bullets or gunpowder it needed to be fired, but probably they were no longer manufactured. She was about to close the chest, when noticed a small symbol carved in the grip. Was that a... star? She couldn't help but to take it on her hand, in order to inspect the symbol better. Whoa, the revolver was heavy...

"Jessica?" Castiel called her out of the blue.

"Agh!"

With a hand on her heart, the woman thanked God she didn't know how to fire a weapon, no matter if it was loaded or not. She most likely would have killed herself, not so much from a bullet but rather the scare that the angel had given her. Yeah, having a strong heart really paid off on the long run.

Without thinking, Jessica immediately ran upstairs. Only when she was about to open the basement door, she noticed the star revolver was still in her hand. Dammit, she wasn't going down again... In a light-fast thought, she tucked the weapon on her back in the same way she had seen Sam doing before. Fortunately, her blouse and jacket were long enough to cover the bump.

"Jessica, where were you?" the seraph asked as soon as he saw her walking through the door.

"Sorry, Castiel. I got a bit lost in the basement. Too many things down there."

Dean was loading the guns. Sam was putting the carpet back in place, covering the demon trap. Wally was in the kitchen, surveilling the outside.

"It is almost time. You should go already to take protection in the car. Do you want me to escort you?"

"No need, I know where it is. You remain here and..." she swallowed hard, "protect them, please."

Castiel nodded without doubt.

"Always."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Nothing was fine.

It was actually a disaster. The plan had failed since the first step, when Dean shot the demon with the paralyzing bullets that didn't do shit to him; then he had waltzed so happily over the trap on the floor, completely unfazed; and finally, he had taken out so very easily the knife that Sam had stabbed him with. Nothing seemed to cause the demon any harm, which he even scoffed at, until Castiel decided to reveal his hiding spot and face him, blade in hand.

"An angel," he spoke with malevolent fun.

Something in his tone gave Dean goosebumps, specially when the demon got rid of him and Sam with barely a strike and then ignored all the present humans, focusing solely on the angel. The seraph tried to put a fight, but the demon threw against a cupboard, rendering him dizzy for a moment. A big red alert went off in Dean's brain, but the hit took him too many precious seconds to get on his feet again. When he and Sam hastily followed their prey to the kitchen, the demon closed the door in their faces, trapping Castiel and Wally inside.

The other hunter held his gun at the demon, but before he had any chance to fire, the hell's spawn turned to him.

"Hello, buddy," he smiled cruelly, showing his yellow eyes.

The door rattled as Dean and Sam banged on it, trying to open it again. Wally however was frozen on the spot at the sight of those yellow eyes, so much that he didn't even notice when the gun was knocked off his hands. Yes, he was new to this demon business, but weren't they supposed to have deep black eyes? What in God's name was actually this... this creature in front of him?

And then, in a fast move, Castiel tackled the thing to the ground.

"RUN!"

The hunter didn't need to be told twice, he was smart enough to understand that against a demon who overpowered an angel, he didn't stand a chance. The best he could do was to get out of the way and not be a nuisance. The last thing Wally heard before leaving through the kitchen's door was someone crashing out of the window.

Outside he met again with Dean and Sam. Since the door in the room had been blocked, they had run to round the house back to the kitchen, but they weren't the only ones. A few metres away, two more demons were coming their way.

"Guys, we got a problem." Wally pointed out behind them. "More demons incoming."

"Alright Dean, go with Cas. We got this. Go!"

Dean didn't thought it twice. He immediately jumped off the veranda and ran to his friend's aid, knowing Sam (and hopefully Wally too) could stand his ground against the black-eyes bastards. But Cas? Whoever that other demon was, it was too much for the angel to take on alone, and Dean just wished to get to him in time.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Meanwhile, Jessica had dozed off a little in the car due to the cold weather and the progressive darkness, but the first shot startled her awake in less than two seconds. She looked around and in front of her, to the country house where a demon lived, and prayed for everyone's safety.

Girl, this was horrible. The wait was killing her!

There were more shots, and breaking noises. A little screaming. The guys were likely fighting, and Jessica tried not to freak out. Sam had told her it was expected if they were going to take down a demon, because they were the trickiest. Scratches, bruises and bloody gashes were the norm against the supernatural, even the occasional broken bone or torn muscle; it was nothing to worry about. After all, this had been their entire life. They could deal with it.

Then someone came flying out a window. The angel Castiel, as far as Jessica could tell under the little light that reached there from the porch. Another figure appeared right after, someone she didn't recognize, and to her astonishment, pulled out some kind of spear out of thin air from his back. Was that the demon? Before she could totally assimilate the situation, the supposed demon stabbed the angel with the spear, making him scream in agony.

"It has been a long time since I've seen an angel, but not long enough." He smiled, pleased. "Where do you think you're going?"

Ok ok ok, that was so NOT right. A fight and some blood, she would have stood, but this was not the case. Castiel was wounded and painfully crawling on his arms and butt, not fighting back; no, he didn't even look like he could actually fight back anymore. There was no way this was still part of the plan. Something had gone wrong.

Without any time to think, Jessica moved rapidly to the wheel and started the car, stepping on the throttle to the fullest. She charged against the demon when he was about to stab the angel again, and sent him flying away to who knew where. She stopped right beside her feathered friend, rushing to his aid:

"Castiel, oh my!"

"Where is he?"

"I don't know," she said, hurriedly getting him up and helping him to the backseat. "Come now!"

Jessica sat again at the wheel and scrammed out of there, frantically looking around in case she spotted either the demon or the hunters, but there was nobody else in sight. She prayed fervently that meant the guys were safe.

A few minutes later, they arrived at a seemingly abandoned barn, and Jessica decided to stop and hide there. Castiel was breathing heavily, his wound surely needed immediate treatment, and they couldn't separate too far from the rest of the group. If they were attacked again, there would be no one to defend them, and the situation already was unsafe enough.

"Castiel, lean on me," Jessica said, putting one of his arms over her shoulders and guiding him inside the barn. "Can you heal yourself?"

"I tried, but something is wrong," he muttered, lying down on an old couch and panting.

"How bad is it?"

Before the seraph could answer, one of Sam's phones rang in her jacket.

"Oh Sam, thank God it's you! Castiel is..."

"Jess, where are you?"

"A farm down the road that looks abandoned. Take the first left until you see a barn."

"Ok, we're on the way. Are you okay, precious?"

Jessica looked at the suffering angel, scared and unsure what to tell. His was a nasty wound.

"No, Sam, I don't think we are. Please hurry!"

The next minutes felt like an eternity to the two people in the barn. Jessica tried to stop Castiel's bleeding with a handkerchief knot, but it proved inefficient and now her hands were stained with blood. And meanwhile, the angel was losing his strength and energy by the second.

"Jessica?"

"Yes, Castiel. I'm here." She crouched by his side. "How are you feeling?"

"Where are Dean and Sam?" he grunted in pain.

"They'll..."

Right then, the door burst open and the three hunters (mostly unharmed) barged inside.

"What the hell just happened?" Dean greeted, furious.

He was ready for a colourful ranting, but Castiel's pained groan instantly took all his attention.

"Cas?" he asked worriedly, taking in the sight and going to him.

"Sam!" On her part, Jessica ran to him and they hugged tightly, both sighing in relief.

Sam allowed himself to enjoy a minute of this, before addressing his fellow hunter with an incomprehensive look.

"Wally, where did those other demons come from?"

"I don't know, I didn't notice they were there before." Then he remembered the most shocking thing in his opinion. "The target, did you see...?"

"No, he brushed off everything we threw at him."

"That's not... Did you see his eyes? They were yellow. He had yellow eyes!"

The younger Winchester deadpanned. No, that couldn't be. The yellow-eyed demon, Azazel... he was dead. Dean and their father had made sure of that. It just wasn't possible... right?

"Wally, what the hell did you get us into?"

While the two hunters faced the possibility of a demon way more powerful than anticipated, Dean remained beside Castiel, having their own slice of drama too. The angel looked bad, very bad. There was blood and sweat on his face, which made Dean remember a time when his friend had declared to never sweat under any circumstances, so this couldn't be a good sign. His eyes were glazed, and his breathing difficult.

"Hey, Cas." Dean crouched by him and gave him a look-over, trying to act lightly given the situation. "Wow, you look like crap."

"Yes, that sounds about right."

"Ok, let's see you."

When Dean lifted up the hem of the shirt, he was barely able not to quit looking. It was horrible, and that was saying something, considering all the many nasty wounds he had seen in his life. It wasn't only for the blood, that he was used to see, but this looked... strange and sickening, like something was creeping up the angel's skin, breaking and tearing him apart. This thing, oh man... The thought of such wound being on his feathered friend only made it worse.

"Alright, ok," he kept trying to cheer up the mood. "Yeah, you know what? I've had worse."

"Really? When?" Castiel asked, not quite following his friend's good intentions. "Dean, there is something wrong. I-I can't heal myself. I think... I think the demon's spear was poisoned, and I don't... I think I'm dying."

Dean shook his head, immediately denying the possibility. That wasn't going to happen, not on his watch. Not to _him_ , and not _again_.

"No," he said vehemently with a trembling smile. "No, you just need some time, okay? You'll heal up the old fashioned way."

Castiel's only answer was more grunts and painful sounds, which made Dean swallow hard, feeling a little desperation beginning to take its toll on him. He needed to do something, and fast, but didn't know what. At the angel's distress, also Sam and Jessica came closer to check up on him, if just for a little comfort. Wally instead felt like he would be intruding in a private family moment, and chose to remain outside keeping guard.

The moment the barn door closed after the hunter, another very well known voice was heard, the rage evident in its tone.

"You idiots! You all are going to die."

To everyone's surprise, the very King of Hell had graced them with his presence.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Their little chit-chat with Crowley was less than pleasant. Not only had they learned that their target was not your common demon but a Prince of Hell, but also that Castiel had been pierced with the Lance of Michael, thus condemning him to a gruesome and painful death. Basically, the seraph was rotting away, and there was no known remedy against the effects of the weapon.

The mood in the barn was grim. In his fury and fea- ahem, frustration for the angel's state, Dean had chased away the only demon that could have possibly helped them, if only for the fun. But Crowley wasn't stupid, he understood the slim chances they had against the Prince, and had wisely preferred to get out of there and not mingle in the Winchester's business. Everyone has to die sooner or later anyway, and they had already went off the hook more times that should be allowed. And yet...

While Castiel was coughing and writhing in pain, Dean had been pacing around, trying to keep it together. He couldn't stand seeing his best friend in such state and not being able to do anything about it. Another fit of coughing.

"Cas, how bad is it?"

The poor angel loosened his necktie and pulled at his collar, showing him the infection spreading up his chest and neck. He was sure he wasn't going to escape from this. After all, he had died enough times to recognize the clock ticking down his hour to go.

"Dean, Crowley was right. You should go," he panted, trembling. "Listen to me. Look... thank you. Knowing you, it... it has been the best part of my life. And the things that... we have shared together, they have changed me. You are my family. I love you, I love all of you. Just please... please, don't make my last moments be spent watching you die. Just run, save yourselves, and I will hold Ramiel off as long as I can."

Dean was on the verge of losing it, watching the angel pleading them to run away. He couldn't believe this was happening again, that _he_ was failing again, and to Cas no less. His best friend was about to die once more because he didn't say 'No' when Cas asked to accompany them on their hunt. How many times had this happened before? How many more were necessary until he learned not to screw up everything?

The first time, he hadn't really cared. Castiel had seemed resigned to his fate, and Dean had thought it no big deal among angels; besides, his little brother was in deep need of his help before he killed Lilith and broke the last seal, so Dean already had his plate full. It had only been later, when everything was lost for nothing, that he really valued the angel's sacrifice. He had just made a friend and immediately lost him.

The second time, it had happened right in front of his eyes before he could move a finger. Once again, the kind angel had given his all to grant Dean's whims (or so Dean considered in retrospective), and that had got him killed. That day, the hunter had lost all his family: his two brothers, his adoptive father, and again a friend who he never even thanked.

The third time... oh, that was still a sore spot, no matter the years that had already passed. Castiel had needed help, had _begged_ for a little trust, and still Dean had practically ordered him to abandon. He had forced his friend to selfishly choose between them and his home, between them and his brothers and sisters... even when Castiel didn't really want to choose, because he was trying to do the best for everyone. To this day, Dean still blamed himself for driving the angel to the point of madness and utter loneliness that in the end, finished with him under water being devoured from the inside by the leviathans.

And finally the fourth time Cas died... oh Chuck, he didn't even want to think about it. Cas had been alone, lost, hungry and helpless, and that damn reaper had killed him barely a few metres away from Dean, just because he hadn't been good enough to find him a day sooner, and hour sooner... or even a minute sooner. If not for Gadreel, he would have lost Cas forever.

And then, here they were again. Same old game. And after all Cas had gone through, he was still saying that he _loved_... them.

"Cas, no." Dean couldn't accept the farewell.

"Yes. You need to keep fighting."

"We are fighting!" Sam supported his brother. "We're fighting for you, Cas."

"And like you said, you're family, Cas. And we don't leave family behind."

Castiel didn't know what else to say. For a moment, he felt an odd wetness in his eyes, and thought he was going to cry. But that was ridiculous, of course, because angels didn't cry... right? They lacked the equipment for it, as Dean probably would say. It was only his body's reaction to the curse of the Lance.

Wally had come back inside, but was waiting patiently a little apart to give the family some privacy. Sam went to him and Dean followed, leaving Castiel in Jess' care.

"So, what's the plan?"

"We hit him with everything we got."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Barely a few minutes later, everything was over. And miraculously, it wasn't on the worst scenario possible.

Crowley had come flying through the door, who knew why, immediately followed by Ramiel. The three hunters had put up the best fight they could give, and after some blows here and there, Sam had luckily delivered the coup of grace. The Prince of Hell existed no more, but Castiel was still dying. Dean's stomach lurched unpleasantly when the angel started spewing some black, gross goo, which reminded him of another moment when he had lost his best friend to an eerily similar substance. He couldn't even look at it.

Behind them, Crowley had gotten up and held the Lance for a moment before breaking it in two. Light erupted from both the weapon and the seraph, and when Dean was able to see again, Castiel seemed healed and good as new.

"Cas?" he was almost afraid to believe it.

"You're welcome," the King of Hell said before disappearing.

"So... you're good?" Wally asked, unsure.

The angel assented while Dean and Sam helped their friend to his feet, but he was still pondering something in his mind.

"What did he mean about somebody stealing from him?"

"Who knows what that crazy man was talking about," Dean said, not giving a damn.

"Actually... I think he was referring to this," Jess prattled with an apologetic frown on her face, pulling something from her back. "I didn't intend to take anything, it just... happened by accident. I'm so sorry!"

The four men looked astonished at the revolver she had on her hand. It was unmistakable.

"Jess..." Sam whispered, before a feeling of euphoria won him over and he took the woman in his arms, spinning her around and making her drop the gun. "Jess, Jess, Jess, JESS!"

"Whoa, girl!" Dean praised her, picking up the Colt. "I didn't think you could be any more amazing, but you proved me wrong."

"What?" she asked, confused and a bit dizzy.

"When we get back to the bunker, Sammy's going to tell you a very interesting bedtime story. So c'mon everybody, let's go home."

* * *

 _ _Thanks for reading and reviewing!__


	5. Chapter 4

___I found a map that shows were the Winchesters have been during their huntings! It's only up to s10 though, I wish someone would update it to s13...___

 **h*t*t*p*:*/*/*r*e*b*l*o*g*g*y*.*c*o*m*/post/supernatural-mine-spn-infographic-** **mine-graphic-im-sorry-spnedit-howboutnovak-s/125355352602**

 _ _ _(To see correctly, you must remove ALL asterisks).___

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

Dean let himself fell flat on the bed and closed his eyes, not even bothering to turn on his back. Man, his whole body ached... and not only that, he was also emotionally exhausted. Well, that's what happens when you get personally involved in a case, but this time it had been unavoidable. Claire Novak, luckily the girl had made it and didn't turn into a werewolf. He didn't want to even think about what he should have told Castiel if the young huntress had been lost, that would surely have broken the angel's heart. And right after dealing with Crowley's son and the Alpha Vampire and that crazy hellhound bitch and... ugh, what an awful streak they were having. No wonder Dean was so desperate for a long nap, or a good hot shower.

Clean clothes would be nice too, of course. See, this is where his wish for fresh underwear would be handy, should he ever use Amara's pearl.

Thinking about Claire, Dean's thoughts consequently moved to his best friend. It had been several days since the seraph finally got a lead on Kelly Kline and went after her, but at least this time he was doing frequent checking ups, so Dean knew that the ominous 'cosmic consequences' hadn't got a hold on him yet. And also... having all this time alone had forced the hunter to stop stalling and face Castiel's words in the barn, that kept repeating in loops in his very tired brain. Whatever they meant.

"Dammit."

With a grunt, Dean got up and went to the locker room, intending to spend at least an hour under the awesome water pressure of one of the showers.

Later, when he was already clean and refreshed and his fingers pruney, Dean joined his also clean brother in the kitchen. They both laughed at Jessica's attempts to make something edible for dinner, considering how old the appliances were, which the woman didn't really find all that funny when her cookies came out of the oven underbaked and had to be put in again for another hour. She was hungry too, after all.

"This kitchen hasn't seen the last of me!" Jess exclaimed, fired up and shoving the men out of the way. "While the cookies are in the oven, I'll prepare some risotto with chicken and cheese sauce. You two get out and wait until I call you back."

"But I could hel-" Dean tried to say, but Sam's hand closed over his mouth while dragging him to the war room.

"You don't want to do that, believe me. Jess may turn a bit over-frustrated when her cookies are at stake."

"Oh... ok, if you say so," Dean shrugged, sitting down on a chair.

"And while we wait, we could talk about what's eating you."

The older brother frowned, not sure where this was going, and even less sure he actually wanted to know.

"What do you mean?"

"Dean, I know that look on your face. It's the one you always get when you need to sort out your feelings and don't know how." Sam tried to sound as open and reassuring as he could, knowing that feelings were always a thorny subject for Dean. "It's the face that tells me _'Let's have one of those chick-flick moments that I pretend to hate but actually love'_ , so if you want to talk about anything, I'm here to listen."

"Hey, that's not..." He was going to deflect by inertia, but... damn, he was already too old to feel embarrassed over such petty things. He sighed, running a hand through his wet hair. "Ok, you're right. There's something I can't stop thinking about, and it's really bothering me, Sammy."

He rested his elbows on the table, hiding his face on his hands for a moment, trying to get the words out. Sam just waited patiently, knowing this could take a while.

"Alright, here's the thing. You remember when Cas was dying back at the barn? Yeah, of course you do, not like anyone could forget such exciting trip. But Cas was dying and he said some things, and I guess when you think you're about to die you just sputter whatever is on your mind, and it doesn't mean it's not sincere but perhaps it's also something you never intended to say in the first place, or ever, but..."

"Dean, DEAN!" Sam interrupted, raising a hand. "Calm down, please. You're blabbering so fast that I can barely understand you."

The hunter stopped then, taking a deep breath and willing himself to speak slower. When he started again, his voice was way deeper.

"Cas said he loved us. And I already knew that, he didn't need to say it out loud, but he did. And now, for whatever reason I don't figure out, I can't get his words out of my mind."

It was Sam's turn to sigh deeply, carefully considering what to answer. This was a delicate matter, everything that involved Dean's damaged feelings was. His brother had been heartbroken way too many times, and by no means was Sam going to allow this to become another one. But he couldn't either push him in a direction Dean wasn't sure he wanted to follow.

"Dean," he spoke softly. "I'm just a human, so I might very well be wrong, but if you ask me... I believe that if Cas deemed necessary to say the same thing twice, it's because he meant two different things. Dying or not."

He waited expectantly for his brother's reaction, but it didn't come. Dean merely looked at him, and then his eyes started wandering around the room, not focusing on anything. It was kinda evident he was mulling over Sam's opinion, unsure what to make of it. After a couple of minutes, Dean seemed to reach some kind of conclusion.

"Ok, let's just _hypothetically_ imagine for a moment that when Cas said 'I love you', he was referring to me," he tried, and Sam nodded. "Right. So, _hypothetically_ speaking, if he really loves me, what does that actually mean?"

"What?" Sam was confused. "What could it mean, besides the obvious?"

"Oh no, no, don't sell me the 'obvious' card here, because it's anything but that. Look, Cas is an angel. Yeah, he has gone through humanity a couple of times, but still an angel to the core. And he has this... this type of universal loving where he 'loves all of Father's creations' and all that jazz. And I'm quoting him here, Sammy, so I don't know. Does he love me as another creation? Like he could love a rainbow, or the Grand Canyon, or his bees? Maybe he loves me the same as a hamburger, or... does he really love _me_? I mean, just the one-and-only me?"

Sam refrained from pointing out to Dean that he was blabbering again, and concentrated on his doubts and insecurities. They were valid and real, and he was somewhat impressed that his brother had actually given the situation so much thought. Sadly, he didn't have an answer for his last question.

"Dean, I know as well as you do how big Cas' heart is, but you don't see him declaring his love around to every single being. I'd say this proves that you rank higher in his affections than any other creation. However, about the way Cas loves you... I'm afraid you'll have to ask him yourself."

"... Fuck, I was hoping you wouldn't say that."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Castiel returned to the bunker that night. It was barely past midnight, but he supposed everyone was already sleeping, so he tried to be as silent as possible walking to his room. Those hollow hallways produced too much echo.

He was really looking forward to lay down on his bed and relax for a while, maybe watch some TV or listen again to that music contraption that Dean recorded for him. Because as an angel he didn't sleep, but he still needed some rest from time to time, and he hadn't had any decent one in a while. Chasing down Kelly Kline had proven to be extremely difficult, even more so now that apparently she had been taken into custody by a demon powerful enough to destroy angels all on her own. The whole situation was an incredible big mess.

"Hey buddy, I see you're back," Dean unexpectedly greeted him in the library, wearing a deadman's robe as he called it. "Any good news about Kelly?"

"Hello, Dean. I bring news, yes, but I do not think they fill in the good category. However, since your definition or good is sometimes sarcastic, that might actually be the case."

"Ok, whatever you say. Bad news are still better than no news at all, in my opinion."

"Why are you still up, Dean? It is already quite late."

"Midnight snack. Looking if there's any pie left."

As Dean made his way to the kitchen, Castiel automatically followed him. Being in the hunter's presence always helped to put him at ease, at least a little. It didn't seem to work in the same way for the human, though, as he started to fidget against the counter under the angel's stare, barely paying any attention to the slice of cherry pie he intended to stuff his mouth with.

"So... how are you, Cas?" Dean finally asked.

"I am mostly unharmed, thank you, as I see you are too."

"Oh. Yeah, that's nice to hear for a change, man."

"Dean, is anything the matter?" the angel frowned. "You seem to be uncomfortable. Is there anything bothering you?"

"No, not at all. It's just... some big things happened while you were on the chase." Dean tried his best to make the conversation go on, talking about the cases he and Sam had worked on, and very specifically explaining Claire's. "But I tell you, we got her cured and back on her feet asap. She's becoming quite the huntress, I'm sure Jody is proud of her no matter how many times they get mad at each other. It actually reminds me of Bobby and us."

"I am glad to know Claire is safe and sound, despite the dangerous path she has chosen for her life. I deeply thank you for taking care of her in my stead, Dean."

"Nah, it was no problem." Dean paused then, not having anything else to discuss with his best friend except THAT. "Also, if you don't mind... I'd like to talk about what happened in the barn."

A tense silence flooded the kitchen instantly. Castiel squared his shoulders, like preparing for a foul outcome, but nevertheless his eyes never leaving Dean's.

"I did not believe that you would ever want to explore this matter further. As you recall, I was about to die."

"Yeah, I know, but you see... that's precisely why I want to talk it over." Dean put down the plate with his half-eaten pie. "The things you said back then, just to make it clear, were... were they true, Cas?"

"I do not find any satisfaction in lying to my most beloved people, despite what someone might think. Are you doubting the honesty of my words, Dean?"

"No, Cas, dammit! Are you being dense on purpose or what?" grumbled the hunter in frustration. Beating around the bush was being of no help, so a direct approach was in order. "What I'm asking here is if you really l-love me!"

What happened after, it was certainly not a reaction that the hunter could have anticipated. He had expected utter acceptance, or perhaps denial due to the extreme circumstances in the barn, or confusion about tangled human emotions, or... whatever, but not this. Not the sheer sadness and quite a bit of shame reflected in the angel's eyes.

"Dean, I... I must apologize," Castiel finally spoke in a hoarse voice. "It was never my intention to weigh you down with the burden of my feelings. It is not something I ever intended to confess, truth be told, but I thought... At that moment, when I was painfully rotting away, I did not want to die again without making my feelings known. _All_ of them. And more than anything, I wanted to let you know that _you_ were loved, Dean. I am so sorry."

"Wait, wait a moment... Are you apologizing for making it out alive? Are you fucking kidding me, Cas?!" Dean was furious, he couldn't believe the nonsense the seraph was saying. "How many times have I seen you die already? Do you think that's something I want to repeat, feelings or not feelings involved? And why the hell would you apologize at all for loving someone?"

"You are not just 'someone', Dean. You are the Righteous Man, and that is of import."

All air was knocked out hard from Dean's lungs. Man, was that a low blow.

"The Righteous Man," Dean sneered. "Of course, there's that. I was appointed as a holy condom for another angel, so that means what, it's a sin to be loved by any other angel? Even if said angel is certainly much more of my preference?"

"No, Dean, you are misunderstanding me! I can see it so clearly woven in your soul, your generosity and altruism... As the Righteous Man you are more sensitive to angels than the average human, and I was afraid that if I ever made my feelings known to you, you would force yourself into accepting me. Because this is what you usually do, Dean. You always try to give people what they need and want the most. And while I _do_ love you, I am still afraid."

Dean breathed deeply, closing his eyes for a moment and trying to put his ideas in order.

"Cas," he spoke slowly, making sure the angel listened. "What you say may be true, but that's because it's my job. It's also my life, and no matter the ton of crap I have to put up with on a regular basis, I still like a lot what I do. What _we_ do. Damn, I like it so much that I even got my little brother chained to it as well, disregarding his wishes to get away. But my personal feelings, my very own heart, is a completely different matter. There's no way you could force me into anything."

They stood there for a minute, both quiet, merely staring into each other's eyes as it was their habit. Dean always thought it a bit strange how easily it was for them to get locked on each other's stares (not that he complained).

"Am I really... your angel of preference?" Castiel asked shyly. "Not long ago, Jessica told me that you defended me, saying that despite my mistakes, my heart always was in the right place."

"Really, Cas, do you even need to ask? To me you're the best angel in the whole Heaven," Dean laughed a little. "Although, sorry to break it to you, but those words aren't exactly mine. Not that I don't believe them, because sure I do, but... they were from one of your feathered fellows, Alfie."

"Who?... Oh, you mean Samandriel. The one I regrettably killed on Naomi's orders."

"Yeah, that one. He thought that your softie heart was your biggest problem." Dean tried to cheer up his friend. "So you see, not everyone upstairs wanted your head. You made enough of a difference that several other angels, however few they may be, understood your mistakes and believed in you. They respected you, Cas, because you're a good angel."

Castiel felt his heart swell with a bunch of sudden emotions from his charge's words. If there was anyone's opinion that still mattered the world to him, that was Dean's. Of course there was still Sam, and now Jessica too, and Claire... but all of them paled in comparison to the Righteous Man. Dean Winchester, the human he had formed a profound bond with, the hunter he defied Heaven for, the man he fell in love with... and the one that was currently invading his so-called personal space by holding his hand.

"Dean?" he said shakily. "What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna kiss you, Cas. So be still."

"What? No, Dean..." He tried to get away, but the firm grip on his hand didn't make it easy. "This is precisely what I was talking about! You do not want to kiss me, you are going to only because _I_ want it."

"Shut up, Cas. That's not true."

"It is!"

"No," and this time Dean said it with enough conviction that the angel couldn't deny it anymore. "Listen, this is... new to me, ok? And I don't know how's gonna be from now on. Maybe we get a kiss and that's all, folks! Or maybe not. But don't keep believing I feel nothing for you, Cas, because I do. What exactly, I'm not sure yet, but it's not the same I feel for Sammy, nor the same I felt for Bobby or Jo or... anyone. You're special to me, and that's why I want to kiss you. So can I, please?"

The angel couldn't get any word out of his throat after Dean's declaration, so he simply nodded. Dean licked his lips instinctively, and reached his other hand to cup Castiel's face. He felt the stubble under his fingertips, it was an unknown and strange sensation, but not in a bad way; it was merely new and different. He got closer, until he could felt the hem of the trenchcoat brushing his own knees. Their lips were now only a sigh away, and the seraph's nervousness was pouring from his bright eyes before closing them. Dean allowed himself a little smile, and then gently descended his mouth upon Castiel's.

It was nice, to say the least; very nice, actually. It wasn't all that different from kissing a woman, he guessed; lips were still lips and they worked in the same way for everyone. It was the feelings of the people involved in the kiss what made it unique and valuable, and they both had a ton worth of bottled-up feelings for each other. Dean tried his best to keep it chaste, though, he didn't want to scare his best friend nor worry him any more than apparently he already was. Just a massage of lips, nothing adventurous.

All too soon, the kiss ended and they stared at each other again.

"So, how was it?"

"I do not think you need confirmation about your skill in this, Dean. But I... I enjoyed it very much."

"Well, that's always good to hear. In the morning I'll have something to brag about to Sam."

"Are you going to use our kiss as a mean to annoy your brother?" Castiel frowned, not happy with the thought.

"No, of course not, Cas. That's private," Dean half-laughed. "What I'm going to rub on his face is my ability to make an angel of the Lord blush like a teenage girl."

* * *

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	6. Chapter 5

___I always liked Eileen :D___

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

Dean woke up the next morning with a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. It took him a couple of minutes to figure out why would he feeling in such a way in the first place, but the memory came soon enough to him.

Lips. Castiel's lips, to be exact. And the memory of kissing said lips.

It was only by sheer will that Dean avoided a massive freak out right there and then. For Chuck's sake, what the hell was he thinking?! He had kissed an angel again, a full-fledged angel this time, and that wasn't even the worst part. Sinning aside (because he was sure that tempting an angel _had_ to be a sin), this was Castiel he had kissed! Cas, his own nerdy angel, the one who had fallen for him in every way imaginable because, apparently, had been corrupted by Dean's mere touch in Hell. This was his best friend, the one who had chosen him over Heaven and who knew how much else.

No, it wasn't. The worst part of all was that Dean wasn't even sorry he did it. He regretted nothing, which didn't actually mean he had the least idea what the fuck he was doing.

Getting up from the bed, he reached for the sink in his bedroom and opened the faucet, splashing water on his face, hoping it would help him to clear his ideas. It didn't. The touch of Cas' mouth still lingered in his brain like an annoying blur that refused to be ignored.

It had been a nice first kiss, in Dean's opinion. It had been gentle, and soft, and tender. Dean didn't get a lot of gentleness in his life, no kidding, specially not from the kisses of his many one-night stands and occasional hook-ups. There was never time for that, so he went straight to the abrasive, hot French kisses that worked the best in getting himself and his partner in the mood for a sexy time. But kissing Castiel had been different, and different wasn't bad. He wanted to kiss him again, but what if his celestial partner didn't like it? What if kisses weren't part of the kind of love that the angel professed to him?

Dean made his way to the kitchen, sure that the seraph had already started the coffee machine for the morning. Castiel didn't sleep, so when he was at home with them (at _home_ , holy shit) he liked to prepare coffee for the rest of the household.

"Hello, Dean." And effectively, there he was. "Good morning. Have you slept well?"

"Morning, buddy. Yeah, I have."

Dean felt suddenly glued to the spot. He just stood there, mug in hand, looking at the angel. He seemed... normal, like always. His greeting had been the same as every morning too. Nothing looked different, and that was precisely what was throwing Dean off balance. How could he act like everything was still the same? Like they haven't kissed yesterday at all? Like...?

Like Dean, who was behaving inside as a teenage girl with her first crush.

Shaking his head, Dean told himself to cut the crap and start moving to get his fill of coffee while it was still hot.

"It never occurred to me before, Cas, but it's kinda unfair that I can't make you the same question," he joked. "How am I supposed to start a morning chat then?"

"You can always ask me anything, Dean, no matter the time of the day or night. Even if the answer will not be satisfying."

Yeah, same ol' Castiel. Nothing changed there, and that was somehow irking the hunter.

"Right. So..." Dean searched for something to talk about while putting bread in the toaster. "How are you? I mean, after the whole Lance of Michael ordeal, you just took off after Kelly again. We never gave you a proper check up or anything."

"I appreciate your concern, Dean, but there is nothing to worry about. Fortunately, I came out of such a dire situation unscathed."

"That's what you call it, Cas? A 'dire situation'?" The hunter turned to look at him, frowning. "You almost died, Cas. Again. It was a lot more than that, and it... it brought back many bad memories. And after that you simply left."

Castiel frowned as well, but for a totally different reason. He looked intently at his friend, eyes locked onto each other.

"What do you mean it brought back memories, Dean? You just told me you have slept well."

"And I did, I didn't mean it like that. I meant that seeing you like that, all bloody and broken, suffering indescribably... it made me think about my time in Hell. The years I spent there, torturing souls and..." Dean licked his suddenly dry lips, looking down. "All the pain you went through because I wasn't there to help you in time, at Ramiel's house, when I ran to you and didn't find you... I mean, I was glad that Jess got you out of there before the Prince killed you, but still... I felt like it should've been me."

"Oh, Dean..." the angel whispered, moved. "For the countless nights I spent invisible by your bedside, dulling your memories of Hell so they would not torment your dreams... if there is a single memory I wish you had not forgotten, it certainly would be this one."

"What one?" he asked, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Dean, when you went to Hell and I was tasked with retrieving you, it was too late. You had already spilt blood and broken the first seal. However, as it is obvious that you do not remember our very first encounter, you are also mistaken about the situation I found you in."

"Meaning what? I need a full explanation here, Cas."

"You were, indeed, working under Alastair's commands to torture souls. What I saw, though... was not their pain but _yours_ , Dean. I do not know how, I cannot understand it even now, but one way or another, all the suffering those poor souls must have felt was transferred to you. You cut and maimed and stabbed, but you were the one crying."

The older Winchester was stunned by this unexpected revelation, not daring to believe it true, mouth and eyes wide open. But what would be the point of Cas lying to him about it?

"Are you... is this...?" he couldn't even bring himself to ask.

"I am only speaking the truth, Dean. Of course, when I found you, I took you out immediately and did not stay to watch more of your performances, but considering Alastair's words... If a demon is to be believed, he was amused by the fact that since the first day you left the rack, you were still going through daily torture."

"Alastair didn't lie," Dean muttered, his voice hoarse. "He said lying was useless, because most of the time the truth was so much more painful."

"So you see, Dean?" Castiel cooed sympathetically. "Even after damning your soul to Hell, you were still a righteous man that tried to help others."

A faint burning smell reminded Dean of his forgotten breakfast. Grateful for the excuse, he turned his back to the angel, unable to hold onto his blue gaze any longer without reaching a breaking point. He didn't want to start weeping so early in the morning, so he minded the toasts instead. He scrapped the burnt off with a knife and added some healthy marmalade that Sam had bought the other day.

"So, wait a second," Dean mumbled when he sat down in front of his friend to eat. "A moment ago, when you said you had spent countless nights by my bedside... was that what you were doing all the times I caught you watching me sleep? Dealing with my nightmares?"

"That is correct, Dean," Castiel confirmed, smiling softly. "I know you find it 'creepy', but (sigh)... You do not seem to remember it either, but after you summoned me for the first time in that barn and we met again, you tended to call out for me in your nightmares. You _screamed_ for me, and I think Sam could corroborate this fact. Since then, whenever you so much as uttered my name in your sleep, I always came to you, because I preferred you being angry than to risk a chance of you actually needing me and not being there."

"Cas, I... I never knew... that you... I mean, I'm..." the hunter was beyond words.

"You are welcome, Dean," the angel said, understanding what the other man intended to convey. "I am actually quite happy to be aware of the frequency I make an appearance in your dreams, even nowadays."

Dean choked on his toast at this, unwilling to explain to his (still incredibly naive) friend that his dreams nowadays were far, _very_ far from the nightmares he used to have back in the day, and thus the role that the angel played in them was also quite different.

They spent the rest of Dean's breakfast in comfortable silence, until the human finished and got up to clean the dishes.

"Well, I will be on my way then," Castiel said. "I am glad I was able to spent breakfast time in your company, Dean."

"Wait, you're going again, Cas? So soon?" and he sounded kinda crestfallen.

"Yes. It is of utmost importance that I locate Kelly Kline before the child is born. As much as I would like to, I cannot stay."

"Yeah. Sure, man, I know that. Just... be careful, ok? And I mean it. Don't get yourself hurt or... or killed or anything. And don't trust flirty waitresses either, you really don't know your way around them."

"Alright, Dean. I will keep your advices in mind."

Castiel had already exited the kitchen, heading to the garage, when the hunter called after him one last time.

"Cas, wait!"

The angel did, until the Winchester was beside him.

"Yes, Dean?"

"Uh... this is, it's strange for me to ask you, but..." Dean ran a hand through his hair, nervous. "You see, about yesterday... you said you enjoyed it, so I was thinking that perhaps... only if you want, 'cause it's not like you _have_ to, but... can I k-kiss you again, Cas?"

It had been a while since Dean felt this ridiculous, stuttering like a little boy to his first girlfriend, and for something as simple and innocent as a kiss. But there was no way avoiding it, it was all too new between them.

"Yes!" and Chuck bless him, Castiel sounded really happy to be asked. "Yes, Dean, of course you can."

Half smiling and half breathing in relief, Dean got closer to the angel, and just like the previous night, cupped his face in one hand before gently pressing their lips together. A wave of tenderness washed over the hunter at the soft contact.

"Good luck in your hunt, Cas," Dean wished him, pulling away.

"Thank you, Dean."

With this, the seraph finally disappeared from sight down the hallway. Dean turned around, intending of going back to the kitchen, but was frozen in the spot as soon as he looked up. Because right there, barely a few metres in front of him, stood another person. A person grinning mischievously.

"Uh..." he started.

"Don't even try," his brother's soulmate said, raising a hand to stop him talking. "I totally saw it, and you're not going to convince me of the contrary."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Next day in the night, the two hunters returned quite happy to the bunker. Jessica was lazing in the library, comfortably crossed over an armchair with a book on her lap, already in her sleepwear when they arrived.

"Welcome back," she greeted them.

"Hi, precious!" Sam responded, bowing down a little to kiss her.

"Did something good happen? It's not usual for you to come back smiling and laughing."

"Sammy's just giggling because Eileen will be visiting in a couple of days, and probably also staying with us for a while. We were talking to her in the car an hour ago."

"Oh, please, Dean. Like you're not happy too."

"I didn't say I wasn't."

"Eileen?" Jess repeated, curious. "Who's she?"

"She's a friend of us, a huntress," Sam answered, grinning. "We met her during a banshee case near here. She's a sweet and funny girl."

And for some reason, his cheeks turned a little pink at the mention of her, which didn't go unnoticed by the blonde. An uneasy feeling set in her stomach, but she ignored it. There was no real reason to be suspicious, and her name wasn't among the past relationships Sam had told her about.

"She sounds nice."

"She is!" Sam beamed. "You'll see, precious. You're gonna love her too."

Jessica frowned slightly at the term 'love', but didn't give it any more importance. She probably was overthinking and taking things out of context.

Dean noticed the change of attitude in Jessica, but decided not to step in. It wasn't like there was anything going on between his brother and Eileen anyway, and the two women most likely would end up being great friends if given the chance. He instead took out his phone, disappointed to see that there was no new message from Cas since he had left yesterday. He never liked not knowing how the angel was doing.

"Ok, I can almost feel the dirt crusting on my skin, so I call dibs on the first shower!" Sam exclaimed happily, hurrying his way to the locker room before Dean could retort.

"Bitch!" he called angrily after him.

"Jerk!" was heard from the hallway.

"The locker room has five shower stalls and a separate bathtub," Jessica commented. "Why don't both of you shower together, then?"

"Girl, you simply don't shower with your brother after reaching a certain age, not even in different stalls. If your body suddenly decides to act up, things can get really weird really soon. Last time we showered together I was still 14."

"Oh, I get it."

Dean allowed himself a small naughty smile, before looking down at this phone again. No Cas' voice in the mail either.

"Are you worried about Castiel?"

"Yeah, a bit. He tends to do stupid things the moment I take my eyes off him, like sacrificing himself for the sake of the world and such. It's kinda a bad habit of his."

Jessica couldn't help but chuckle at this.

"What? What's so funny?"

"Are you sure that's the only reason you want to hear from him, Dean? Because what I saw yesterday tells me otherwise."

The older Winchester shifted nervously on his seat, looking away.

"That... that was... just in the spurt of the moment, Jess."

"Mmm-hmmm. Whatever you say, Dean, I'm not going to make fun of your cuteness. You didn't either when you saw Sam and me in the library that time."

"Oh, believe me I wanted," he assured her, jokingly. "You were adorable, just like two birds in a nest. But then, I noticed that Sammy was crying, and... I just couldn't."

"Why?"

"You see, Jess..." Dean said, pensive, scratching his forehead. "Throughout our life, I've seen Sam crying many times... well, not that many actually, but he always cried out of pain or sadness. That was the first time I saw him weeping out of happiness, and it's enough to make me know that I won't ever make fun of him for it."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Behind the two men, Eileen descended cheerfully the stairs of the bunker, excited to be able to visit such an incredible place, and also to be in the company of the few friends she had in the world. She also intended to visit Mildred soon.

"This here is the war room," Sam was explaining. "Next is the library, and at the back is the telescope, which we still don't know how it works. That doorframe there is the kitchen, the other is the principal hallway. I've prepared a room for you, Eileen, but be careful where you go because the hallways are labyrinthine. The garage is..."

"For God's sake, Sam, let her breath!" Jessica greeted them, coming from the kitchen with a plate full of pinwheel cookies. "Nobody could learn their way around here just by indications anyway. She has to settle in."

Dean didn't even bother to hide the chuckle that escaped his throat.

"And the pretty thing coming our way is the most recent fixture we got in the bunker to adorn our lives," Sam introduced, not in the least embarrassed. "Eileen, this is Jessica Moore. Jess, this is Eileen Leahy."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Eileen," Jessica offered her free hand, smiling politely. "I haven't had the chance to meet anyone since I... uh... settled here."

"I'm glad to meet you too, Jessica," Eileen shook her hand and signed. "And I'm aware of your unusual circumstances. You can speak freely in front of me."

"Oh. So you are... please, forgive me, I didn't know since nobody told me." Jessica was surprised for a second, looking at the other woman signing, and then looked accusingly at the male hunters. "I don't know anything about sign language. Can you understand me if I just speak normally?"

"I can, don't worry," Eileen nodded, not taking offense. "As long as you don't talk too fast, I'll understand you just fine."

"That's great, I was looking forward to meet you! In fact I made these for you, as a welcome gift." She offered her the plate of still warm cookies. "But the paleolithic oven here isn't very fond of me yet, so please, don't feel forced to eat them if they taste bad."

"If they taste half as good as they look, they'll be delicious, thank you. Though you didn't have to bother."

"Hey, what about us?" Dean interjected, a hand on his stomach. "We're hungry too!"

"You?" Jessica fumed at the Winchesters, still angry that they hadn't warned her about a handicapped person. "You two are grounded!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

She was tired. And also discouraged. There was something going on with Sam these days, but she wasn't sure about what exactly.

" _Eileen is really nice_ ," Jessica kept telling herself. " _She's kind, and funny, and helpful. She's a huntress, so she understands a lot of things about this life that I can't. Sam... well, the guys seem to feel very comfortable around her. And she's also really pretty when she smiles._ "

Tossing and turning in her bed, Jessica was having a difficult time falling asleep. Her mind was constantly going back a couple of hours ago, when she had stepped into the library after her shower, and found the three hunters there drinking merrily. They were talking about some demon that Eileen had killed all on her own, and apparently it had been an important one, because she had obtained valuable information about that woman pregnant with the Devil's baby. It was obvious they were celebrating the good news, and Jessica had felt horrible for the jealousy twisting in the pit of her belly.

"Come on, Cas. I've called you three times now." She had heard Dean pacing back and forth for a moment. "Will you call me back? We've got a line on Dagon. We need your help."

Jessica had seen it then, the looks, the smiles, the mood of complicity between Sam and Eileen. They had invited her to join them, of course, but Jessica had excused herself. She hadn't wanted to cut their fun short, celebrating something that she didn't fully understand. To her, 'Devil' was just a word that didn't really have much of a meaning; nothing of which they talked about had it. It was a bit ridiculous, actually, considering she herself was one of these freaky things she couldn't totally grasp, what with being resurrected by God and everything.

Sighing deeply, Jessica gave up on her attempts at sleeping and turned on her bedside lamp. She had a couple of books there, but until now, in the months since she had been brought back to life, had read them only as entertainment. Maybe it was time for her historian mind to be put to good use again.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	7. Chapter 6

___This chapter turned out a bit melodramatic... sorry for that.___

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

Morning came slowly to the inhabitants of the bunker, the fact pretty much being an understatement since there were no windows to welcome the sunrise, except the ones high in the war room. And it wasn't like those were that good either.

Constant artificial light could really mess up with your notion of time, specially after a sleepless night, something that Jessica verified when she stepped through the kitchen doorframe, thinking it early in the morning and instead finding two people already there, already elbow-deep in work. Or something that could more or less be considered work, since actually the hunter and huntress in front of her eyes were laughing childishly and smudging each other with flour.

Reacting hastily, Jessica hid behind the doorframe before they could spot her, and quietly peeked over again. Both of them had their sleeves rolled up and hair tied, several cooking ingredients on the table; judging by the two goops of dough in the table, they were baking. One was cherry red, and the other vanilla beige. At one moment, Sam stole a pinch from Eileen's dough on his fingertip and tasted it, incurring in the fake wrath of the huntress, who scooped a handful of leaven and aimed it at his head; Sam, however, got fast on his feet and ran around the table, trying to avoid the attack.

Jessica couldn't keep looking, not with the pressure in her chest about to explode in sobs. Baking. She used to bake with Sam, back in the day at their apartment. She was the one who taught Sam how to bake in the first place; and they used to make it a game and play around too. It was their thing, something silly and intimate to do together. She remembered how they sometimes would make cookies with strange shapes and tried to guess each other's.

"I wonder how long it will take us to clean up this mess," she heard Sam say, laugh in his voice.

"We could leave it to Dean. He looks like he would make a good househusband," the woman suggested.

Barely containing the tears, Jessica left, walking slowly in the echoing hallway not to disturb the baking couple. She got back to her room, closed the door and slipped down to the floor, holding her head on her knees. Then the tears ran freely.

She should be happy for Sam, she really should. He had told her that throughout the years since her death, he hadn't forgotten her, and that was a lot of love and devotion. Jessica was happy and touched to know she was that much loved, but... the sadness in Sam's eyes was real as much. His fixation on her had caused him pain, but with Eileen... he smiled to her. He was _laughing_ with her just now.

It wasn't fair, not for him and not for herself, to be resurrected for this. She still loved Sam, loved him so much. Time hadn't passed for her after all, and her feelings remained unchanged. However Sam... he still loved her, of that she was sure, but all signs pointed out that he also had something beautiful going on with the huntress. With Eileen. And being honest, it probably was about time. Jessica didn't want to become a bitter presence in his life that prevented him from finding happiness.

After a while, that Jessica took to weep out all the tension and calm down, she got back on her feet. She wasn't even hungry anymore, and had no intention to go back to the kitchen until being sure there was nobody there. Sleep had evaded her all night long, and she wasn't in the mood to keep reading and studying. So what to do? Music was, then.

Jessica cleaned up her tear-streaked face on the sink in her bedroom, just in case she met someone in the hallway, and got out. She made her way to Sam's room, knowing he was still baking in the kitchen. He had told her she was always welcome to come in, regardless of whether he was in or out the bunker; she didn't need to ask for permission.

When she was in, Jessica looked around, searching for his iPod. Admittedly, Sam had several good podcast that she liked to listen to, mostly documentary. But the device wasn't in sight. Sighing, she started looking around. She didn't really want, it was one thing to have permission to enter Sam's room and another totally different matter to rummage through his belongings. She checked the desk, the shelves and even under the bed (don't ask why she knew to look there), but the iPod was nowhere to be seen. Finally, she decided to open the drawers of the bedside table.

There were a few things inside, iPod included, but... once open, Jessica couldn't contain her curiosity. What secrets could Sam Winchester, the hunter she never knew, hide in his nightstand? Beside the device, there were a couple of cell phones and some credit cards, none of them with his real name. A gun, that she didn't want to touch and skimmed around. A vintage porn magazine that made her smile a little, because well, boys will be boys; it showed a cute, blonde pin-up girl in the cover. And at the very back of the drawer, there was a small, black velvet box.

It was a very recognizable style box, and Jessica felt her breathe stuck in her lungs as she picked it up. God, this was so wrong, she was invading Sam's privacy and had no right to do so. She knew that, and yet... yet she had to know. She _needed_ to know if her fears were real, or mere misunderstandings and situational circumstances. With a deep breath, Jessica opened the delicate box and looked inside.

There, sitting daintily on white satin, was a ring with a tiny red gem. An engagement ring.

Closing the box, putting it back and closing the drawer, she started to cry again.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Dean was furious.

What a shitty day. Not that he hadn't had a ton of those in his life, but sometimes he really understood when people said they shouldn't have gotten out of bed today.

They had her. They fucking had her, the mother of Lucifer's child, but had lost her again to Dagon. Not that Kelly had resisted that much, actually, but Dean wasn't going to blame the poor woman for her surging maternal instincts. Who knew what crap that Prince(ss) of Hell had brainwashed her with, but considering that everyone on the 'good' side was trying to kill her and the baby, it wasn't that much of a surprise if Kelly trusted the demon more than them.

And now they were MIA again, both Kelly and Dagon.

That wasn't even the worst part. Eileen, their poor friend... the huntress had killed a civilian on accident. Just an innocent, random guy that was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He took a lost bullet in the chest when Eileen shot the Colt at Dagon but the demoness disappeared right then and there; barely a few seconds later, the guy dropped dead on the ground and Eileen was devastated, trembling hands holding the gun. Once back at the bunker, she had cried long and hard in shame and guilt in Sam's arms, who kept silent, knowing there was nothing he could said to her that she didn't already know. Accidents happened sometimes, and that was the reality.

And Cas... dammit, Cas still wasn't responding.

Dean had tried to calm down, but it was proving to be difficult. Not only out of worry for the angel's well-being, but also because he was beginning to freak out a bit. He was starting to _fear_ that he had fucked up again, because, you know... he had kissed him twice. The seraph certainly consented, but didn't mention the fact later. Was he ashamed of it? Was he disgusted? Was he... was he merely going with the flow, because he thought that was what Dean wanted? Did Cas want to be kissed at all, or was he once again simply indulging Dean's silly whims?

Dean fell on the bed, tired, staring at the ceiling. He breathed deeply, willing himself to relax both in mind and body. Why wasn't Cas responding to him? Not a text, not a voicemail, anything? It had been _days_ , dammit. The hunter had disappeared on enough one-night stands the day after to recognize the behaviour, but his angel wouldn't do that, right? Not to him?

He took the phone on hand and looked again. Still nothing. Furious, he threw it on the desk and rolled on his side, intending to sleep.

Okay then, to hell with it. Dean Winchester could take a fucking hint.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Eileen walked down the hallway, crestfallen and with her duffel on hand. She had cried her eyes out by now, but at least was feeling a bit better. Relief came with a great deal of sadness, but at least she felt calmer.

Stopping in front of a door, she knocked gently.

"Come in," was the answer from inside.

"Jessica? I'm here to say goodbye," started the huntress, hoping that a permission she couldn't hear had been given, but the moment she entered the bedroom, her words died in her mouth.

The blonde woman was packing up an old suitcase (that probably had belonged to a Man of Letters) that she had found somewhere in the bedroom.

"You... you what?" she asked, confused.

"What are you doing, Jessica?" Eileen asked. "Are you going anywhere?"

"I am. I... I don't feel like this is my place after all."

"But... why? I understand that the bunker is not precisely the White House, but..."

"It's not that," Jessica retorted, looking away.

The huntress put her duffel bag on the floor and came closer to the other woman, finally noticing the tenseness in her shoulders and the slightly red eyes.

"Hey, I know we've barely known each other for a week, but if there's anything you want to talk about, I'll listen. I won't tell a soul either."

"Eileen, you... you're really a good person," Jessica sobbed a little. "I sincerely wish you and Sam all the happiness, but for that, I need to get out of the picture. And also, I'm very sorry, please believe that. I'm not the kind of woman that would try to steal another's man, I simply didn't know about you two."

Eileen kept silent for a moment, her brain trying to process what Jessica had said, and searching for a meaning that simply couldn't be the obvious one, because that was impossible. Anyone that would be in the same room with Sam and Jess would notice that those two only had eyes for each other.

"Hum... I'm not sure if I got that right, but... are you implying anything about Sam and me?"

"Well, yes? I'm really, really sorry," Jessica repeated, contrite. "I don't want to be the cause of any misunderstandings, so I assure you we only kissed and hugged a little, nothing else. We never got to..."

"YES, ok, ok! Don't explain, I don't need to know that," Eileen raised her hands in a stopping motion. "Listen, Jessica... there's no misunderstanding between me and Sam, but it's evident there _is_ one between you two."

Jessica frowned for a second, but of course, Eileen didn't know about the engagement ring that she had found in Sam's drawer. It probably was intended to be a surprise.

"You don't have to spare my feelings, Eileen. You're a good woman, and you also understand this kind of life, while I don't."

"Jessica, stop for a moment and listen to me, please," Eileen asked, holding softly Jess' trembling hands. "I don't know what you saw or _think_ you saw, but it's not like that at all. I won't deny that I like Sam and he likes me, but our feelings are totally platonic, not on the romantic side. There's nothing going on between us, you hear me? We're just... kindred spirits, if you want. We both lost our parents to supernatural beings and were raised in the hunting life, chasing after the monsters that caused our grief. And we are legacy from the Men of Letters, but that's all."

"But... but this morning during the baking, you were... And a couple of hours ago, I saw you two embracing. I'm not making this up."

" _Oh, for heaven's sake,_ " the huntress thought, sighing. "We were baking for you and Dean. I wanted to reciprocate the courtesy you had with me with those cookies, and thus prepared an Irish recipe of sponge cake for the next breakfast. But Sam knew that Dean would be bitchy about it, so he joined me to make a cherry pie for him too. And about the hug, actually..."

And then, Eileen proceeded to tell Jessica everything that had happen that day, how Kelly Kline had escaped again, and the civilian she had killed with a lost bullet. She told her how she had broken down in Sam's arms, seeking comfort.

"Oh, Eileen!" Jessica whispered, taking the huntress in a hug. She was about to cry again, though this time for another's sorrow instead of her own. "That's... that's so sad, but... it was an accident, it wasn't your fault. I'm so sorry, I didn't know..."

"It's something I'll have to learn to live with," she sobbed, hugging back for a moment. "But it has nothing to do with your and Sam's relationship. Don't doubt that he loves you very much. Only you and nobody else, so... don't go anywhere."

And she nodded slightly to the half-made suitcase. Jessica followed her gaze, and allowed a little smile to show up on her face.

"I guess I could stay for a little while more," she joked. "And you?"

"I... no, I have to go. I need some time for myself, off hunting. At least until I feel confident enough to be back on business."

"I see," Jessica understood. "I'm happy to have met you, Eileen. Not only because you're the first person besides this 'Team Free Will' that I've met since getting resurrected, but because you're really nice. I'd be glad to call you my friend and keep in contact, if you want?"

"It would be my pleasure too... Jess," Eileen accepted her friendship with a grin. "Well, I'll be going now. Sam offered to drive me to the airport, and I already left him waiting a good while in the garage. See you soon, Jess, but please do me a favour."

"Sure, anything."

"Talk this out with Sam. If you have doubts or something, don't let them pile up. No matter how busy he might seem to be. If you really intend to be part of his life, you need to make an effort and claim a little space for yourself. Don't allow hunting to take up all of his time, even if you have to fight for it."

"I will, promise. Thanks again, Eileen. I hope to see you again soon."

"I'll try," she assured, hugging in farewell again. "Bye, Jess."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sam breathed deeply, trying to calm down his nerves before knocking on the door. He didn't know what to expect, but Eileen had been insistent during the car ride that he needed to sort things out with Jess. And here he was now, not even knowing what it was that needed to be sorted out in the first place.

"Come in," Jessica said for the second time that night.

"Precious, it's me," Sam said gently, closing the door after him. "Can we talk?"

She was lying on her stomach on the bed, a book on the pillow, already dressed for sleeping.

"Of course, puppy. Actually, I was going to ask you the same," she murmured, closing the book and moving to a sitting position.

Sam grabbed the chair by the desk and put it closer to the bed, sitting down in front of his beloved.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I... (sigh). Today I saw you and Eileen embracing. And this, added to several other things that I witnessed these past days, made me believe that you were in a relationship."

"You... the what?" Sam almost choked, flabbergasted.

"But Eileen denied it and explained to me what had happened today. I felt so sorry for her."

"Yeah, me too. She didn't deserve that," Sam agreed, looking down.

There was silence for a minute, both of them trying to get their thoughts out.

"Sam, you know that I love you, right?" finally Jessica dared to speak again.

"Yes, of course I know. And I love you too."

Jessica stared at him, unconvinced, and after a few seconds averted her gaze.

"About that... I'm not that sure, Sam."

"What?" He was surprised to hear that, certainly. "Of course I love you, precious. I love you more than anything."

"Please, don't say that!" Jessica exclaimed, holding her head in her hands, frustrated. "Not yet, at least. Sam, from the moment I died and reappeared in front of you in this bunker, barely a few minutes passed for me. My feelings remained unchanged because there simply wasn't time for them to change. However for you... I know you loved me back then, and I believe you're still fond of me nowadays, but I'm not sure if it's the same. Are you still in love with me, the _real_ me, or are your feelings just clinging to the memory of me?"

Sam was frozen on the chair, stunned, hands pressed together so tight that his knuckles were going white, his jaw tense and his eyes prickling. He swallowed hard, trying to relax the lump in his throat. He needed to think carefully about his next words, because a feeling in his gut was telling him this could either go very well or very bad.

"Jessica Lee Moore," he spoke slowly, trying to keep his voice steady. "From the very moment we said 'Hello', I've been in love with you. I loved you when we fell together in that swimming pool where we kissed for the first time; I loved you when you laughed at the ridiculous underwear I was wearing the first time we made love, because the moment arose unexpectedly; I loved you when you gave up on the bigger flat because you knew I preferred the one with the patch of grass; I loved you when you insisted we moved around in bus instead of getting a car, because we needed a new washing machine."

Jessica was looking intently at him, waiting to see where this was going.

"And I... when I was having nightmares about your death, I loved you. When I was getting desperate, thinking that my brother was going to Hell for me, I loved you. When I was getting high on demon blood, I loved you. When I lost my soul and couldn't really feel anything, I'm sure I still loved you. When I killed Brady, I was loving you. And definitely, when months ago you appeared in front of me, I loved you the same that I'm loving you in this very moment."

"But I... I found an engagement ring in your room. Accidentally, I promise I wasn't snooping around. Surely there must have been someone that you intended to give it to."

Sam laughed lightly, part of the tension leaving him.

"Yes, naturally there was someone," he smiled genuinely at her. "It was for you, Jess. I bought it a couple of weeks before... you know. I was going to propose and ask you to marry me when we graduated, but that chance was stolen from me. And even after this long, I never wanted to get rid of it, because it was a symbol of my love for you. Then and now. Always and forever, precious."

Jessica was mute, not daring to speak. A couple of tears rolled down her cheeks. For God's sake, at this rate she was going to go blind, how many times had she cried today?

Okay, it was more than enough. Jessica didn't want to talk anymore, so she wouldn't. Instead, she moved from the bed and took Sam's hands on hers, pulling him to her; the man complied, heart beating fast. She tip-toed and slid a hand to his nape, calling his mouth down to hers. A gentle kiss rapidly evolved into a searing one, hands running wild trying to get clothes out of the way. Jessica pulled backwards, letting gravity do its work and falling on the bed, Sam carefully following her.

No more tears were shed that night.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	8. Chapter 7

_Dean is happy whenever their little family gets bigger :D_

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

When Dean stepped into the kitchen the next morning, it was to instantly draw a gun and point it to whatever creature had taken his brother's face and obviously fake _short_ hair. The fact that Jessica was calmly sitting on a chair, a coffee in her hands, did very little to explain the situation to Dean.

"Hey!" Sam exclaimed, hands up in surrender. "You still asleep or something?"

"Who are you and what have you done to my brother?" Dean asked, totally serious. "How did you even manage to find and enter the bunker?"

"Should I worry, puppy?" Jessica wasn't sure how far a joke between the Winchesters could go.

"It's ok, precious. Dean, stop playing and put that away already."

Sam ignored Dean's incredulous snort and sat down beside his lover, both leaning a bit into each other and smiling. After a moment of hesitation, Dean decided that nobody else in the world could master a bitchface like his little brother, and thus he had to be the real deal, hair or no hair. The red glint in the blonde's finger was another clue that something important had happened last night between them.

"What the hell happened to your hair?" Dean couldn't wait a second more to know.

"I asked Jess to cut it for me."

"You WHAT?! I've been telling you to cut it for years, and suddenly you decided it by yourself? I think I'll go fetch some silver and iron after all."

"I have my reasons, so stop pestering me. Go eat your pie like a starving animal as you usually do."

"I do not!"

"You actually do, Dean," Jessica chirped happily.

"Shut your pretty face, blondie," Dean replied jokingly. "Don't think you'll get any preferential treatment as my future sister-in-law."

At this, Jessica's gaze all but caressed the engagement ring now adorning her hand. A wave of shyness put some pink on her cheeks, but the smile she tried to hide behind her mug was still visible. Sam's silent answer was another proud smile of his own, and the older Winchester didn't really know what to do with the sudden chick-flick atmosphere.

"Okay, you two lovebirds. I'm going to stuff my face with breakfast and gag at you putting up a rom-com scene as a mere spectator, since I want no part in it."

"Whoa, it's true you can really be a jerk, Dean," Jessica chuckled.

"Don't you know it, bit-... No, wait. I can't be calling you that. We'll have to think of something else to call you."

"Why would you need to call me anything?"

Dean's grin immediately faded. That question had sounded so... so _Cas_. Same Cas that was currently MIA, doing who knew what and where, and ignoring all of Dean's calls and messages. Hoping that the angel was safe and still alive, and just too busy to check with his best friend.

"Name calling is just another term of endearment to Dean," Sam explained. "Though it's only between us. Don't let him drag you into it."

"Hey, I wouldn't be calling a lady any nasty word. I can be a gentleman too, mind you. I respect women."

"Unless they are witches, right?"

"Dude, they deserve any nasty word you address them as, ladies or not. They're all... yucky."

"Don't let Rowena hear you say that. I'm sure she'll make you regret it."

A bit of fear crossed Dean's face, but the hunter rapidly masked it as annoyance, throwing a pie crumb at his brother in a very childish gesture.

"Okay, kids. Before this develops in a full-front food battle and I get stuck in the middle of it, I'm going back to my room." Jessica stood up and kissed Sam lightly. "Since, you know, my sheets need changing and all that."

Now it was Sam's cheeks that turned pink, while Dean remained there with eyes open wide and a half-munched pie in his mouth.

"Really?" he barely whispered, although the woman was already out of earshot. "Did that mean what I think and _hope_ it means? Did you and Jess... finally?"

"Yes, Dean, it's exactly that." And Sam was just too much happy to also feel embarrassed. "It happened yesterday, after I gave you back the Colt. I went to talk with Jess, and... well, you know how it goes."

"Dammit, Sammy, that's awesome!" Dean swallowed and grinned. "Congrats, man! It was about time, really. And what's with the ring? Are you really going to tie the knot together?"

"Just... just hold your horses there, Dean. It's not that simple," the younger Winchester sighed, raising his hands in a placating manner. "Yes, I proposed last night; and yes, she accepted, so now we are engaged. And also yes, we... we slept together. But aside from that, Jess and I talked about a few things."

"What things?"

"I think we solved any possible misunderstandings about our mutual feelings. We still love each other and want to stay together, but there's more than that," he explained, running a hand through his now short hair. "I proposed to her because it's something I always wanted to do, and Jess accepted because she would have back in the day, but we know we can't have that dreamed life anymore. I'd like to marry her for real, but I'm not sure we can, considering both of us are officially dead."

"Oh, please, like that's such a big deal," Dean waved a hand, dismissing the issue. "Haven't we falsified tons of documents? We go around shoving fake FBI badges in people's faces, for hell's sake! What's a fake 'Alive' file compared to that?"

"Yeah, that would be nice," Sam said softly, like he believed it was just wishful thinking.

Dean frowned, feeling there was more to it.

"Spit it out, Sammy."

"Jess mentioned wanting to go back to college. Finishing her major, finding a job, earning some legit money..." he laughed a little. "That's a lot of false documents."

"Yeah, that's true," Dean leaned back in the chair. "It also means distance. Getting far from here, from you."

"I want Jess to be happy," Sam blurted out, hastily and sincerely. "It's the only thing that matters."

"Not to me. While I'll be glad for Jess if things turn out well for her, I care that you are happy too."

"I'll be happy as long as she is. Whatever happens."

The atmosphere in the kitchen had gone from pink to sour, and both of the brothers noticed it. Looking for a way to lighten the mood again, Dean focused on the other astounding fact of the morning.

"And what's with the hair? Don't think you're coming out of this kitchen until this X-File is solved too."

"You sure you want to know?" Sam laughed. "I warn you, the answer is extremely cheesy and chick-flick alike. You might not keep it in your stomach if I tell you."

"Go on, I'll manage somehow."

"Well, the truth is... I like long hair. I mean, that I liked Jess' long hair when we lived in Stanford. I loved her and loved her long, curly hair. Every time, after we made love, we cuddled together and I caressed her long hair, again and again. And when she died... eventually, I started to miss the feeling, both the love and the touch of her long hair. So, I let my own hair grow, though of course it wasn't the same."

Dean allowed himself a little smile.

"So now that you got your babe back, you finally can look like a man again? That's always good news in my book, dude."

This time, the breakfast crumb flew in the opposite way.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

When Castiel came back to the bunker, the mood was more than grim. Sam had tried to make it light, but Dean was far beyond pissed to follow the game. The fury, the disappointment, the worry... and the hurt. It was just too much to take at once, and the angel's very evident guilt in his face made it all the worse. Dean couldn't stand it, he _wouldn't_ stand it, so for once in his life he chose to retreat instead of facing the truth. Whatever truth that was, he wasn't sure, but he was afraid of it.

That, however, hadn't worked all too well when Castiel followed him to his room instead of leaving him alone. The pitiful angel had even tried to give back the cassette, the one gift that Dean ever gave him. It had pulled some strings in his heart to understand that very likely the seraph didn't know how gifts worked because he never received any, and then Dean just... mellowed. It was just above him, to remain angry with his best friend, and specially now, knowing what other things had already transpired between them. So, like always, the hunter eventually gave in and forgave him.

Which was the reason Castiel found himself once again in front of his door, the ominous weight of the Colt hanging accusingly in his pocket, carefully hidden. He had taken it when the hunter went to get a beer, and now, when he was just about to go away again, felt the irrepressible need to talk to him one last time. Because Dean would notice quite fast the disappearance of the Colt, and he would know for sure it had been him. And then it wasn't going to be pretty.

"Dean," Castiel called, knocking on the door. "Are you sleeping? I... I would like to talk a bit more. I mean, if it is not too much of a bother to you, of course. If you do not want me in your presence, that also would be understandable."

The door opened with an old sound that could use some oil, and a still kinda annoyed hunter let him in, closing again after he entered.

"I apologize for delaying your rest," Castiel stuttered, looking at the still full-dressed human. "You probably need it."

"Yeah, well. **Nothing new under the sun*** , right?"

"Dean, Sam has just informed me of everything that has happened since I went uncommunicated, and I want to...

"Cas, stop," Dean smiled sadly, shaking his head. "Just stop apologizing already, man, because... Listen, you know what? I think I should be the one saying sorry."

"Why do you think that, Dean?" Castiel frowned. "You have done nothing wrong."

"Maybe I did. Yeah, really. Because I look back, and since the moment you pulled me out of Hell, you always gave up everything for us. For _me_. And that never ended in anything good for you," Dean recalled, averting his gaze from the very blue eyes that always seemed to hypnotize him. "And I guess I grew complacent, believing it would be the same forever, like... like you are some kind of puppet that only moves when I pull the strings. But you're not, Cas. You're your own person, with your own wishes, your own ideas... and I can't expect them to always agree with mine. Here, look at us now: you go by yourself and I get so mad at you."

There was silence for a minute, Castiel trying to correctly interpret whatever Dean was saying to him. It wasn't easy.

"Dean, are we discussing the same subject yet?"

"This isn't going to work, Cas," Dean continued, deliberately ignoring the question. "It has never worked for me. It failed with Cassie, it failed with Lisa and Ben... it had failed so many times with Sam too. So better to stop it here before it actually begins, because..." he breathed deeply, "I don't know what I'd do if it failed with you too."

"My... my apologies, Dean, but I am not quite following your point."

"Happiness, Cas. I'm talking about happiness," the hunter spelled it out, exasperated. "Whenever in life I try to get something good for myself, it always spits me in the face. This obviously won't be any different."

Castiel couldn't stand it, finally figuring out where this was going. Eyes wide open in heartbreaking realization, he launched at the crestfallen human, gripping him tight by the shoulders and pushing him against the wall. Dean grunted a bit, it had been a long time since the angel had used his supernatural strength on him, and he wasn't expecting it.

"Dean, please," Castiel whispered a desperate plea. "Get mad at me all you want, yell at me, show me no respect if you must... but I beg you, do not load this onto your shoulders. I will not allow you to blame yourself."

"Cas, what the hell..."

"You are worthy of happiness, Dean Winchester," Castiel didn't halt the pouring of his heart. "Please, stop with this self-deprecating crap you always put yourself through, because it hurts me deeply. Being the Righteous Man or not, that does not matter. You are a righteous human by your own right, Dean, and you deserve to be happy. And I... you would not believe how honoured I would feel, if I could contribute to even the smallest fragment of said happiness. Because I love you, as much as an angel can love."

Dean was looking so intensely at his eyes, like trying to find the truth or lie of such statement in them. The earnest angel didn't know what else to say, so he decided to stop talking and start acting.

He closed his eyes and kissed Dean.

Dean gasped in surprise, never imagining the seraph could try something like this on his own. This was their third kiss yet, but the first one that Castiel initiated. Like the other two, it was innocent enough, since he didn't dare to go for more than what Dean was comfortable offering. Brushing their lips together in tender pecks again and again was already more than what the angel ever hoped to get from the hunter.

"I am afraid too, Dean," Castiel confessed softly against his mouth. "You are not alone in this. Every second of our lives, we seem to be in one dangerous situation or another. I came to believe that there is no perfect time for anything, there is no use in waiting. So whatever happens, Dean, and whenever that happens, I will be grateful and never regret it."

It hurt Castiel to say those things, as sincere as they were, knowing that in a matter of minutes he was going to flee with the Colt and disappoint Dean again. But the hunter didn't know that yet. At this moment, it was still okay for Dean to keep even the littlest faith in him that Castiel long ago convinced himself not to deserve, but craved anyway.

"Cas..." Dean tried to answer, but no words came to him.

Frustrated for that, he decided to shut up and follow his-best-friend-maybe-something-more's example, and kissed him back.

It wasn't the same as the previous times, though. Dean wasn't in the mood to be soft and tender, he was furious and agitated. He was uneasy and hurt, and that showed in his kiss. His passion flowed through him to his lips, where he touched Cas' once more and didn't let go.

Dean raised a hand to the angel's chest to get a fistful of fabric, pulling him closer. Castiel's grip on his shoulders relaxed, following the Winchester's lead over his mouth. They kissed hungrily, and then... barely the tip of Dean's tongue dared a lick, meeting the seraph's. Castiel yelped at the sensation, but the sound was suffocated in delight even before leaving the cavity of his mouth; it felt hot, both physically and figuratively, and nice enough to deserve imitation.

The hunter groaned in satisfaction when Castiel's shy tongue darted out, meeting his in a timid greeting. Just a second of stalling expectation was enough for both men to fully leap into the kiss, breathing heavily and tasting each other like thirsty castaways. Dean tasted like the beer he had been drinking an hour ago, a little tinge of bitterness mixed with the permanent sweet flavour of the pies he constantly ate; Castiel was indescribable though, merely cool and fresh like the purest water.

"Dean..." Castiel murmured, trying to catch his breath when their make out session became calmer. "Please, tell me what this means."

"I... I still don't know where this is going, Cas. Sorry," Dean replied, honest. "But like you said before, I'm not waiting anymore for that perfect moment that we never get. We... we simply take it as it comes, ok?"

"Alright, Dean."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The silence in the car was heavy. Despite the rain the day before, the morning had dawned clear and cloudless, but inside the Impala the mood was as dark as the leather seats.

Sam tried to stretch a bit, but it wasn't easy with the limited space. His back ached and his arm was still numb for sleeping on it for several hours, not precisely in a warm bed but on the cold and wet ground of the park where Castiel had left them. Looking briefly at his brother, he was sure Dean wasn't aching any less, but in his case the heart pain was probably worse than any other on his body.

"You know Cas didn't..." he tried to say.

"Don't," Dean stopped him sharply, not taking his eyes off the road. "Don't even start. That... that _thing_ , it wasn't Cas. I know it better than anyone."

"Yeah," Sam muttered, sighing. "Just wanted to make sure we're of the same opinion."

It had been a hard, low blow for both of them. Castiel stealing the Colt and following a plan without them because, once again, he had put his own safety after the Winchesters'. Then Lucifer's spawn had sensed it, and very likely had taken advantage of the angel's good intentions to taint his beliefs into who knew what twisted lie in order to protect itself.

"I don't know what I'm gonna tell Jess about it," Sam added, absentmindedly touching the pieces of the broken Colt. "They've become pretty close."

"Just tell her the truth. Painful but easier in the long run."

"Do you really think that?"

"... No."

Of course not. Painful truths were never easy, and they didn't get any easier over time. It simply didn't work that way.

Clenching his hands on the wheel, Dean wondered how long it would take him to overcome this new wound. Castiel had declared his love for him again, but still, it hadn't been enough to make him stay; for once, it hadn't been enough to make him choose them, but there's always a first. Whatever trick the mini-Devil had used, it surpassed everything.

Dean was cursing at himself in his mind. If only he had known earlier what was actually going on with Kelly and Heaven's plan, maybe things would have turned out different. Castiel wouldn't have to steal the Colt, Eileen wouldn't be currently depressed about the lost bullet, Joshua would still be alive... they could have merged their plans somehow and figure out a better outcome.

"At least Dagon is dead now. That's... another big bad demon out of the game board," Sam acknowledged.

"Sure."

"Dean..." he sighed. "You know I don't blame you, right? For not putting the Colt back in the safe. You... you're not the only one that feels better having a certain weapon at reach, even inside the bunker. For me, that's Ruby's Knife. Maybe not enough to make me hide it under my pillow, but still."

"You don't blame me?" Dean snorted. "Well, I do. And you should too."

"Actually, it only made me wonder how much acquainted is Cas with your bed."

The little attempt at joking didn't have the desired effect, but at least it put the faintest of pink on Dean's cheeks. Too bad his freckles camouflaged it quite well.

"Haa, I wish this would only be a nightmare..."

A _wish_.

Now this, this made a few gears start running inside the older Winchester's head. Was is perhaps that simple? Should he use Amara's gift for this? With all that had been happening, the idea of using that black pearl never crossed his mind. Actually, he had completely forgotten about it... until now.

"Hey, Sam. What you just said, about wishing it away... do you really mean it?"

"What?"

"If you could make a wish, would you do it?"

"No, Dean," Sam answered immediately. "It was just a figure of speech. I wouldn't wish it".

"Why?"

"How why, are you serious? With all the supernatural crap we've dealt with? Wishes aren't real. There's always some sort of curse behind them, or the mockingly deception of a djinn."

"No, I-I know that, but... if there was a safe way of having your wish granted and for real, in the exact way you hoped for it to happen, without tricks or loopholes or anything... wouldn't you do it, Sammy?"

The younger brother considered it for a while, looking doubtful, most surely taking into account all possible consequences.

"I think not, Dean. Even having all the possible assurances, I still wouldn't do it."

"What? Why the hell not?"

"Because... if it was really something so difficult to get or impossible to happen that I couldn't do it by myself, and the only way was an extreme supernatural wish... then it's probably because it isn't mean to be."

"What kind of conclusion is that?" Dean almost fumed. "It's what wishes are for, aren't they?"

"Well, I guess, but..." Sam tried to explain better. "Remember everything we've gone through, all the times we thought we were done because there was no way to get out of it or make it right... and yet we did. Somehow, every single time, we found a way and we did it. Many times with help from others, of course, but... it was for real. It wasn't a wish, no matter how impossible it looked."

"Because it was meant to be, that's what you're saying?"

"Yeah, because it was meant to be."

Dean let his mind wander for a minute, frowning and pondering his brother's words. Meant or not, he had a way to make it real. Having all that power from the Darkness at his will, wouldn't it be stupid not using it eventually? But on the other hand, things never had gone very well for any of them whenever they held a bit of immeasurable power.

"You still remember we're Team Free Will, right? No 'Believe in fate' crap?"

Sam merely shook his head.

"Why are you asking, anyway?"

"No reason," Dean lied. "Just wanted a distraction. Something to argue about with you."

The younger hunter didn't look very convinced.

* * *

 ***Nothing new under the sun = nihil novum sub sole ;-)**

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	9. Chapter 8

_Well, s12 officially ends here. Ugh, it took me 8 chapters to 'rush' through 23 episodes... I truthfully hoped to go faster, but there were just too many things I wanted to write about _.__

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

Lucifer was on the loose. Again. It was an understatement to say that things in the bunker were tense.

Dean, Sam and Jessica had spent the last days and nights glued to their phones and computers, looking for the correct kind of weird news that could give them a minimal clue about where their feathered friend had gone; so far, nothing yet. Oh, and having to babysit the King of Hell, yours truly, was just the icing on the cake.

"This is what you do when I'm not here?" Crowley asked derisively, taking a sip of scotch. "Type?"

Dean barely made an effort to acknowledge the question.

"Wait a second, I got something." Sam suddenly bolted with interest. "Ok, two hours ago, there was a massive power outage in the Pacific Northwest."

"It sounds like the right kind of weird," Jessica opined.

"They tracked the outage to an address in North Cove, Washington, to a house currently rented by James Novak."

"That's Cas!" Dean said eagerly, standing up. "Let's go."

"It's about time," Crowley grunted.

But before the demon could even leave his chair to join the others, Dean got a hold of his hand on the table and stabbed it with Ruby's Knife, nailing him.

"AAAHHHGGG!"

"You think we're gonna trust you out there after what you pulled? No. You stay here, sit down, and shut up."

"Yeah, Dean's quite right," Sam agreed. "Jess, be careful with him and don't believe a word he says."

"What?" she frowned, disgruntled. "Are you expecting me to stay here too? No way, I'm coming with you."

"Oh no, you're totally not, precious."

"Oh yeah, I'm totally yes," Jessica insisted, no joking in her voice. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you intend to get to Cas and engage the three of you in a front-battle with the Devil. Same Cas that ran away because he wanted to protect this woman and her son? It doesn't seem like a good way, then."

"I know, but..."

"And while the four of you are having your macho time, Kelly will be dying unattended, giving birth all alone. Who's gonna take care of her while you fight, Sam? And the baby? Certainly not any of you."

Sam opened his mouth, wanting to say something that would convince Jessica to stay safely in the bunker, but nothing came to his mind. He looked at his brother for help, but Dean merely shrugged in a gesture that clearly meant 'Your babe-your problem, not mine'.

So settled it was, and a long way to Castiel awaited the three of them.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The loud, painful moan of a woman was heard from upstairs, halting the current ongoing conversation.

"I'll check on her," Jessica said immediately, leaving the three men to their own issues.

Castiel looked at her for a moment, deciding to trust her not to have any ace up her sleeve. There were more important cards on the table, like how to stop Lucifer or healing Dean. Because Dean was _always_ needing a touch of angelic healing. Totally accidental, of course.

"Thanks," the hunter mumbled after trying out his fixed knee.

"Alright, we should double-check the warding," Sam suggested, turning around and making his way to the back of the house.

"Wait..."

Castiel tried to call after him, suspicious of the tear in space and time that had appeared in the backyard, but before he could move a step, a tight grip on his arm made him refocus all his attention back to the older Winchester. Those green eyes bore so much hurt that he could barely stand their gaze.

"Dean, I..."

Whatever he was going to say, was washed away when Dean grabbed a fistful of fabric at his collarbone and forcefully slammed his mouth on Castiel's. It wasn't tender, it wasn't loving. It was a kiss full of fury, intended to convey the frustration of abandonment. Dominant lips over apologetic ones. The hunter didn't even close his eyes, since there was nothing to enjoy in such a raw contact.

"Don't bother," Dean snorted. "I don't want to hear your sorrys all over again, Cas, so keep them to yourself. Right now, I'm so... so pissed off, that I could punch your face until my knuckles broke. But as usual, there are more important things than me to take care of, like Lucifer and Kelly. So we're going to do this, and then... then we'll see what happens."

The angel looked utterly dejected, but nodded slowly in agreement. There was no time for them with Lucifer hot on their tails. It seemed like there was never enough time for them to just care for each other.

So once more, they put aside their profound bond and followed after Sam to the backdoor.

"Right, so... Listen, if we..."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Upstairs, Jessica stopped right at Kelly's bedroom door and knocked lightly, waiting, not daring to intrude without invitation.

"Who are you?" Kelly startled, hugging her swollen belly in a protective gesture. "Where's Castiel?"

"I'm Jessica Moore," she answered in a calming voice. "I've come with Sam and Dean, they are downstairs with him. I mean no harm to you. I'm Sam's fiancée and a friend of Cas. You can call me Jess."

The pregnant woman looked unsure, but made a head sign indicating Jess that she could come in. She did, and walking slowly, sat down at the foot of the bed.

"Why are you here?" Kelly asked, breathing deeply.

Jessica pondered her answer for a second, doubting that the news about Lucifer coming for the kid would be adequate to disclose.

"You know how special your baby is, don't you? Strange things are expected to happen, so the boys are going to ensure that you and the small bird are safe," she smiled. "I'm here to take care of both of you, and help in any little way I can."

"I see," Kelly accepted, since there was nothing else she could do anyway. "Are you a doctor, perhaps? Or a nurse?"

"Ehm... sorry, I'm not. I chose History as my major. But if it makes you feel any better, I once dressed up as a nurse for Halloween!"

Both women chuckled a little, tension dissipating slightly.

"I also happened to witness it once, the whole ordeal, so it's not exactly like I don't have the littlest idea what's gonna happen or what to do."

Kelly was about to ask something, but a contraction shook her then. She doubled in pain, as much as her belly allowed her, and clutched the sheets until her knuckles were white. Jessica touched gently one of her hands, trying to offer some comfort, and automatically Kelly gripped her fingers; immediately, Jessica scooted closer and held Kelly's hand in both of hers, waiting for the pain to subside.

"Are you okay?" she asked to the soon-to-be mother. "Do you want anything? Water? Another pillow?"

"I'm managing, considering I'll be dead in a while," Kelly joked, wanting to make light of the situation. "But it's worthy, don't you think?"

"... Yes. If you believe that, then surely it is."

"I was very scared at the beginning, and also later," Kelly confessed with a trembling smile. "But not anymore. Not now, when everything is about to end. Even if I'm not here, Castiel will look after my son."

"He will. All of us will," Jessica reassured her. "I know it has been a tug of war, but Sam and Dean are trying their best to protect you two, believe me. And Cas won't allow anything to happen to your baby."

"Jack, his name is Jack. Very original, right?"

"Jack will be in good hands, Kelly. You don't have to worry anymore."

"Thank you, Jess. For being here with me. For being my friend even for a little while."

The blonde nodded silently, touched by Kelly's bravery and kindness. The poor woman didn't deserve this, to die being Lucifer's broken plaything.

"Tell me about the time you witnessed it, please," Kelly asked.

"It happened in sophomore year. One of my teachers was pregnant. She wasn't due until the end of the semester, during holidays, but she started contracting in the middle of lessons. I guess she broke her water and somehow didn't notice; coincidentally, her subject wasn't a popular one, and in a class of nine I was the only female. We called an ambulance, but it was her fourth kid already. The ambulance took too long to arrive, her body knew what to do, so everything was happening quite fast. When the paramedics finally got to her, the baby was about to crowning. She couldn't be moved, so... she delivered there. I assisted her the whole time."

"That's quite the anecdote to tell," Kelly commented. "How was it?"

"Truly? It was messy, and it was complicated and painful and probably not hygienic and... it wasn't pretty. Really, it wasn't. But at the end of the day, she had her new daughter wrapped in her arms. And that was beautiful."

Another contraction halted the conversation for a minute. Jessica dipped a rag in clean water, wrung it and wiped the sweat from Kelly's forehead.

"You look fairly younger than the Winchesters," she spoke again. "How did you get tangled in their problems?"

"Well, actually..." Jessica stuttered. "Sam and I were already in a relationship more than ten years ago, in Stanford. I was killed by a demon. Only recently... I mean, almost a year ago, something big happened and I was brought back by God. I decided to stay with the person I loved."

She looked at the pregnant woman, concerned what this new information would do to Kelly's unstable mood, but to her surprise, she burst in laughter. Well, as much as she could laugh given the circumstances.

"So you were resurrected by God, and I got pregnant by the Devil?!" she gasped, trying to regain her breath. "Jess, we would have been such great friends..."

And it was only then that Jessica saw the unshed tears in her eyes.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

For a second, all Dean could see was the figure of his angel, getting further and further from him, trenchcoat billowing in a damned world made of grey ashes. Blade in hand, Castiel walked decidedly to the archangel that was still confused by the sight of the King of Hell committing suicide right in front of him. The hunter, admittedly, wasn't any less confused by the fact.

"CAS!" he tried to call him one last time, before Sam dragged them through the interdimensional rift.

Back in their own world, the brothers fell on the ground. Hastily getting up, they turned around to wait for their feathered friend, hoping he would make it before Crowley's spell sealed the port.

And Castiel did. Right before being stabbed in the back by a grinning Lucifer.

Dean's brain stopped functioning. He had heard a piercing, wet squelching noise, and his eyes saw the white light, and there was a gasping sound leaving the seraph's throat. What that all meant? He knew it very well, had seen the signs a lot of times, but his neurons simply couldn't apply the obvious outcome to the angel. This, this had to be something else... right?

"NO!" someone screamed, and it took Dean a second to realize it had been him.

Then Castiel fell, and not figuratively speaking. He fell hard to the ground, like a sack of flour. Like an empty vessel.

Dean didn't dare to even blink, his eyes wide open. This couldn't be real. Castiel unmoving, and the Devil with a bloody blade on hand.

"That was fun."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Inside the house, Jessica started slowly to regain consciousness. What had happened? The baby was about to born, Kelly had glowed, and then... some kind of force had pushed her across the room.

The baby. Where was the baby?!

Alarmed, she got up back on her feet and went to the bedside. Kelly laid there, dirty and... dead. Her lips were starting to lose colour, her body growing cold. Considering this, Jessica thought that she had been knocked out only for a few minutes. But where was the baby?

A soft whine came from under Kelly's knees, still covered by the damp nightdress. With trembling fingers, Jessica carefully lifted the hem... and there she found him, a small being still protected between his mother's thighs. Strangely, it was already completely clean, not a smear of blood or anything on his fair skin. He wasn't crying, nor making any other sound, and a shiver crept up Jessica's back when the... _nephilim_ locked eyes with her. Golden eyes.

Some sense came back to her then. Hurrying, she looked behind and took the sterilized supplies that she had insisted in buying at a pharmacy. She measured where to cut the umbilical cord, and wrapped the baby in the cute blanket that Kelly had given her.

"Welcome to the world, Jack," Jessica sobbed a little, caressing him tenderly.

She then put him down in the crib that was in the room, and proceeded to take care of the unfortunate deceased mother. The placenta had already started to come out, and no more than a couple of tugs were necessary to pull it completely; Jessica put it in a plastic bag to dispose of it later. Next she cleaned Kelly, washing her face and hands, and even combing her. Finally, she placed her arms and legs on a more natural and comfortable position.

Kelly looked like sleeping.

Checking on the baby one last time, Jessica went downstairs, hoping to find Sam and tell him that everything was already over. However she didn't, there was nobody in the house. Maybe they were in the backyard?

Outside, Jessica saw both brothers facing another man, and Cas... Castiel laid on the ground, motionless.

"That was fun," the unknown man was saying. "Seriously, guys. Points for trying, super impressed, but... playtime's over."

Only that... it wasn't an unknown man, not really. Walking closer, the lightbulb in the yard was enough to let her recognize him: it was him, the Devil, wearing the vessel she had seen on a cam shot. Lucifer. He wasn't an abstract concept anymore.

"Get away from them!" Before even realizing it, Jessica had come side by side with the Winchesters.

"Precious?" Sam whispered, bewildered.

"Jessica, right? Yeah, I've heard about you," Lucifer greeted her, all charming. "So you were Azazel's brilliant plot twist to get Sammy in the life again? Can't say I don't get it, you're quite the eye-candy. It was useless though, because at the end things didn't turn out quite like it was expected, so... yeah, such a pity you died for nothing, dear."

She couldn't look away from the tall man. This was the ancient being that had caused so much pain to Sam and Dean, and countless more. The one that used an innocent woman like a breeding mare merely for power, the one that made a child with her out of spite for his own father. That indirectly caused her own death as if it was a game, and apparently had just killed her celestial friend. He had tortured Sam in many cruel ways.

Jessica was incredibly scared, but way beyond the fear, she felt blinding rage. Without thinking, she slapped him hard.

"Cute," Lucifer cooed, barely feeling anything at all. "Is that all you got, Princess Bride?"

"Maybe I don't know much about angels yet," she hissed, "but you're in a male vessel. And about men? Oh, I know a thing or two."

And with all the strength she could muster, Jessica kneed him in the groin. Whimpering, Lucifer dropped the angel blade and crouched a little, feeling the pain from his nether human parts spread through his body. Now he stood at the perfect height for the blonde to meet his damned face with her elbow, making a crunching sound. That got him reeling backwards on his feet to the still barely open rift, hand in air trying to find something to hold onto and only finding Jessica's still raised arm...

Falling, they both were sucked through the portal just as it closed.

"NO!" Sam bellowed, rushing to the spot where the interdimensional rip had been mere seconds ago. "No no no no, not again... Jess. JESS!"

He stood there for a couple of minutes, stunned, feeling around the empty air as if he could find another breach by touch. Teardrops had dried on his cheeks when he finally gave up and felt himself bristle, an unsettling pulse coming from behind. Turning around, he saw the strange flickering light coming from one of the rooms in the house.

Looking at the other Winchester, Sam decided to ran to the house alone.

Dean was as much overwhelmed as his little brother. He couldn't stop looking at Castiel, knowing that one moment or another the angel would open his eyes again, because he _had_ to. He had done it before, right? All the times Dean thought he had lost his best friend, Castiel had come back to him sooner or later. He only had to wait a little.

The hunter fell on his knees, softly, no strength left. Castiel's face was rigid, impassive, like the first time they met. But now Dean knew how warmly those infinite blue eyes shone when laughing at one of his stupid jokes, how the cheeks puffed a little when smiling, how the eyebrows knitted together in confusion, how the lips rosied after kissing. He wanted to see all of that again, and he would. Any moment now.

A feeling of impotence invaded him. Looking at the night sky, he wondered where the hell was Chuck. Why was he taking so long? So much for being God. Didn't he get the memo that Castiel had died yet or what? He would bring Cas back again, because he was his fave angel, right? The only one that actually gave a damn about humankind, the only one that dared to rebel and fight for Father's cherished yet abandoned pitiful toys.

Castiel's damaged wings were singed on the ground. And Dean kept waiting.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sam ran upstairs two steps each, following the guessed path of light even if it didn't shine anymore. In that room he found Kelly, dead but laying peacefully like a pretty doll. His sweet Jess, she had made sure to clean her and put her in a comfortable position, as unnecessary as that might have been.

After closing Kelly's eyes and dedicate a little prayer to her, Sam jumped on guard when a disturbing noise came from the other side of the hallway. Of course, how could he forget even for a second? Lucifer's spawn was just born, but where was he?

Taking careful steps, not knowing what kind of creature might attack him any moment, Sam made his way to the opposite room. Cold shivers ran up his back when he saw the scorching footprints on the wood floor. That wasn't reassuring at all, but he kept going until reaching the doorframe. Even in the shadows of the night, it was obvious that the room was a nursery, lovely painted and furnished for a baby that would never meet his parents.

Then golden eyes glowed in the dark. Not the eyes of a baby, though.

"Father?" the crouched nephilim asked, not with a child's voice.

"No, I'm not... I'm not your father," Sam stuttered, astonished beyond comprehension. "Jack. It is Jack, right?"

"Father," the naked teen-alike repeated, getting up.

A door slamming was heard downstairs.

"Sam?" Dean called. "Sammy!"

"I'm here!"

When the older Winchester arrived, turmoil in his gut eating him alive, it only took him a second to react. He saw his little brother, he saw a menacing creature, and he drew out his gun.

And he shot.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	10. Chapter 9

_In this chapter we get the first big divergence from canon! :D_

* * *

 **Chapter 9**

Dean entered the quiet room, his deep breathing being the only sound heard. He stopped for a moment, gathering his wits, before daring to lift the sheet and look once more at the motionless body that laid there on the table. Pale skin and rigor mortis was all that greeted him.

"Hey, Cas," he murmured, leaning in. "You remember that time in the bunker, when you were human for a while and bored, and I found you watching _Sleeping Beauty_? I laughed and teased you for that, but... I wouldn't do it again. Really, man. So if I do this and you pull me into a kiss-or-die moment with you... it'll be ok."

He stroked gently the angel's hair before laying a small kiss on very cold lips.

"I promise you, Cas. I won't be mad. Just wake up." With voice shaking and eyes prickling, Dean kissed him again. "Dammit, Cas! I promise, ok? I won't make fun of you for it, you stupid feather-brain. Just open your eyes and stand up. I've promised already, so just... please. Wake up, Cas, _please_."

He attempted a final, third kiss, but of course to no avail. Castiel's cheeks were now slightly smeared with wetness that, painfully, wasn't his own. Eventually, Dean couldn't stand it anymore and got away from the angel's corpse, covering him back with the sheet again. Tearing the curtains of a window, he used them to secure the improvised shroud.

Outside, the pyre was ready. Sam had already put Kelly there, and he and Jack were waiting for him. For the last time, Dean took Castiel in his arms, because he knew there wouldn't be more times.

Ever.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jack didn't understand it. He couldn't, what was he doing wrong. Even if he was trying his best with Dean.

He had chosen the angel Castiel as his father even before being born, but he wasn't there anymore. Castiel was dead, killed by his other no-father, that was what Sam had told him. They burnt his vessel along with Mum's corpse, and Jack missed him. It didn't matter they never got to actually meet each other. Castiel was his father and he was dead.

But that didn't mean he had disappeared, because Jack could still feel him lingering around, somehow. Specially in Dean Winchester. His father's essence was deeply carved into the man's soul, and it was bright. It was comforting on a small scale, but Dean wasn't sharing. He didn't want him around, that was clear as day. Jack was trying his best to appeal to the hunter, listening to his words and commands and imitating his actions, but this instead seemed to bother him.

"Ok, will you stop already?" Dean had shouted yesterday, annoyed.

He had seen Sam hiding a small smile. There was also Father's essence in him, but a lot fainter, so much that it couldn't compare to Dean's. It was a pity, because until now, the younger man had been the one more approachable. He was being nice and understanding, patient and reassuring. He seemed to like Jack and Jack liked him back, but it wasn't enough. He wanted Dean to like him too.

Sam had explained to him that Dean was hurting, hurting a lot because of Father's death. He blamed him for that. Jack didn't really understand that, how could he be responsible for Castiel's death when he was being born at that exact moment. However, he hadn't asked Dean. He doubted the hunter would want to talk about it with him. There was also a lot of heartrending feelings pouring from him every time he mentioned Castiel, and those weren't nice at all.

But then this other man, Donatello, Prophet of the Lord, had come to him with a plan, and it sounded like a good one. He just need to show Dean he wasn't evil, so the older Winchester wouldn't hate him anymore. Jack would prove that he could do good things. Perhaps, when Dean wasn't so angry and scared, he would be more willing to like him.

That's why he was there, following Donatello's instructions to free Heaven's bravest soldiers by God's will. A scaly arm was already creeping out the hole in the ground when a vehicle appeared on the road. It was the Impala.

"Jack, stop!" Sam screamed, getting out of the car.

"Don't listen to them, Jack! Keep focused!" the prophet seemed hysteric.

"That's not Donatello!" another man said, an exact copy of the one beside him.

"Oh, screw this," Dean sputtered, before taking aim and shooting the clone.

The first Donatello, the one that had offered Jack his help, dissolved and in his place stood an unknown man with yellow eyes, clad in a white suit.

"Jack, he's a demon!" Sam warned him.

"Howdy, boys," the demon said, moving his hand, and immediately the hunters and the prophet started choking.

"No!" Jack shouted, losing his focus and aborting the process of freeing.

Among the rush and the confusion, the one shedim crawling out of Hell had been practically forgotten, but it achieved to emerge just in time before the hole closed again right behind it. Covered in nothing more than a tattered rag, it remained still, quiet, not wanting to attract attention upon itself, not yet. Its scaly, yellow skin started to shed, uncovering a new, more human hue beneath. Its nails also retracted.

"Jack, they want to stop you, contain you," the demon spoke to Jack, smiling alluringly. "But _I_ , Asmodeus, can give you the world."

Jack looked at him, afraid and unsure, and then looked at the people that had been trying to care for him since his birth. There wasn't really any choice to make.

" _You_ , are hurting my friends!" he bellowed, eyes flashing golden at the demon.

He wanted to punish the white-clad demon for his deception, but unfortunately, his powers were still too new and untamed to grasp them completely, and before he could actually do anything, Asmodeus lose his smile and left.

Or, he tried. A grip on his ankle, strong as a shackle, secured him in place.

Harsh panting noises distracted Jack, deactivating his eyes and dousing his powers. Without thinking twice, he ran towards the Impala and the people regaining their breath there.

"Asmodeus," the creature known as a shedim spoke with a rough voice, barely getting out the words. "Asmodeus, the fourth Prince of Hell."

The demon in white tried again to free himself, but the creature didn't budge. Quite the opposite, it elongated its arm as it got up on its feet, managing to kept the Prince in its grasp until they could look eye to eye.

The shedim looked like an old man with Asian features, probably around his seventies. Eyes wise and almond-shaped, hair more grey than black. Barely any meat on his frail bones.

"Asmodeus," he repeated with a voice a bit cleaner this time. "It looks like your second attempt at freeing us has been more successful than the first. At least for me."

"It seems like that," the demon agreed, nervous. "I welcome you back to Earth, soldier. I have plans for you."

"Oh, Asmodeus," the shedim said, derision clear in his tone. "I would hate for you to think I'm ungrateful, but the fact is... that I am. Don't expect me to serve you."

"If you don't obey, I will throw you back to your prison. That's the only choice you have, and I won't be as generous as to offer it a second time."

The shedim laughed then. A deep, coarse, horrific laugh.

"Really," the creature challenged him. "And what will you do? What could you _ever_ possibly do, to make me behave?"

Before the astonished looks of Winchester&Co., who had no idea what was really happening in front of them, Asmodeus grabbed the shedim's long arm still locked to his ankle, and burned it. Burned it until the skin fell off and the flesh was reduced to ashes, showing the charred bones that managed to resist.

The shedim not even whimpered. Not a single muscle on his entire body actually moved.

"Is that all? Not much for intimidating me into servitude, Prince of Hell. Doing this you only achieved to make me lose... what, ten demons? Maybe a dozen? You should have tried harder, because I won't be as generous as to offer another chance," he mocked the demon's previous sentence.

"I'll kill you, bastard!" Asmodeus threatened, attempting to get free again. "You're nothing more than scum at the bottom of Hell!"

"No, you won't, Asmodeus. Do you want to know why?" the shedim asked, as his arm regenerated all on its own. "Because you can't kill me. I've never been boastful like you, I don't mind being 'scum' in the least. Why would I? You're a Prince, and you're still pathetic. But the real reason you won't kill me it's because, Prince or not, you're only _one_. Me instead, I'm thousands upon thousands."

And not talking anymore, the shedim pierced the demon's back with his other hand, still claw-shaped, and pushed it upwards until the nails came out through the skull. Not even a scream managed to escape the Prince's throat before his limp body completely rotted in a matter of seconds, the remains vanishing in the air.

"That was an entertaining welcome," the shedim told himself, shaking the blood from his hand.

Only then he seemed to acknowledge the other spectators of the scene. He looked them up and down, with barely more interest than what he would dedicate to a worm.

"And who may, if you grant me the honour to know, compose my welcoming party?" he mocked them.

The older hunter was the first to recover and face the obvious new menace.

"Winchester, Dean and Sam," he introduced them in a wary voice. "Jack, Donatello."

"Two hunters, a nephilim and a Prophet of the Lord," the shedim smiled, apparently pleased. "You didn't go small, neither subtle."

"It's not like we were expecting you, or anyone else," Sam swallowed hard. "What or who are you anyway?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Oh, just... I tend to like knowing the name of the thing I'm about to kill," Dean answered. "For future reference, you know."

"Kill me?" the shedim laughed at him. "Certainly, since you're hunters... it only makes this situation all the more funnier for me, you thinking that you're actually capable of such a feat."

"Well, not to brag, but we have some big shots hanging on our wall of glory."

"I'm sure of it. Dean and Sam Winchester, the two most pestering cockroaches in Hell. Your reputation precedes you."

"Oh, so you have heard about us!" Dean played it cocky. "Look, Sammy, I'm going to blush. Do you want an autograph?"

"Dean, I don't think it's advisable to taunt the probable next sovereign of Hell," Donatello whispered, hastily grabbing Jack's arm and taking refuge behind the hunters. "Seeing as he has just annihilated the last Prince of Hell all by himself, that would likely be his next goal."

"No, I'm not really interested."

"Interested or not, it doesn't matter anyway because I'm taking him down here and now," Dean replied, aiming his gun.

"Oh, your little toy is _so_ gonna work," the shedim smirked, opening his arms in invitation. "Please, do me the honour and shot, Winchester. I'm not even going to move."

True to his word, he didn't. Dean's bullet, with the demon trap carved in it, found home in the shedim's brain. The old body fell backwards to the soil.

"Eh, that didn't take long," Dean breathed out, turning around.

"Sorry, you were saying?" a new voice behind them said.

And turning back again, all present people opened wide their eyes, witnessing as the body of the shedim once more rose from the ground. A wave of energy washed over it like liquid oil, transforming its appearance, and instead of an old Asian man barely covered with a rag, now in front of them stood a woman. A woman that looked Native American, taller and around her forties, wearing a fringed jacket and boots; tanned skin, strong nose and night eyes, blue so dark that almost looked black.

"I think you dropped this," the shedim said, voice now feminine but not any less mocking.

With the same speed and force than Dean's gun, she threw something at them that impacted at their feet. Jack bent down to pick it, and they saw it was the demon trapping bullet. A useless bullet, it seemed.

"Who are you?" Sam insisted. "And what do you want?"

"Not Hell, that I assure you," she answered, hanging her thumbs on the loops of her waistband. "I didn't lie a moment ago when I said I'm not interested in becoming the new sovereign. Not in Hell, not in Heaven... There's only one thing I care about, and that is _freedom_."

"Freedom is a term easily taken out of context," Donatello made a point, valiantly testing the waters. "And largely misused."

"True," she nodded, smiling. "Let me be clear, then: I don't give a damn who you are, what you are or what you do. I'm not going to waste a single thought on you, for you don't matter to me. The empty angels, the berk demons, the petty humans... I only care about myself. And now that I'm finally free... by the way, thanks for that, Jackie; now that I'm free, I'm going to enjoy my freedom with everything that there's in existence: eating, sleeping, sexing... or stealing, torturing and killing. Whatever teases my attention, whenever and wherever I want."

"We're not going to let you," Sam replied.

"Please, what could you possibly do? Kill me? Oh, wait, you already tried that!" she laughed. "I'll tell you something, Sam: I'm not invulnerable, as you have seen, but invincible? That, I am. Because I'm not one, I'm thousands. And even if you some day get enough bullets for all of me, I'll simply go and take more, to be rebuilt anew."

"Are... are you really a demon?"

"I guess I am, but not like any you have ever encountered," she spoke darkly, raising her arms as the wind started to blow way harder, and even the sunlight dimmed. "And is my name Legion, for we are many."

Thunders cracked in the distance, lightnings shone above their heads, and even the air seemed to charge with electricity. Then a single ray broke right in front of them, and when they looked again, Legion had already disappeared.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Dean was annoyed. Or rather, saying he was fuming and about to shot something would be a more precise term. Yeah, because he should be out there chasing a ghost or ganking a witch, paying his respects to Missouri's grave and crushing under his foot the last vermin that escaped from Hell. Instead the three of them were about to play patients and docs. And not in the sexy way.

"You've lost someone recently?" the suspected psychologist asked, coming downstairs.

"No," Dean said surly.

"My parents," Jack contradicted almost at the same time.

"We're family," Sam added, trying to best asset the lie. "We've having a difficult time."

The woman came to them, holding their hands in sympathy and introducing herself.

"Mia Vallens."

"Hi. Dean."

"That's our nephew, Jack, and I'm Sam," he explained. "His mother was our, uh... sister, and his father was a great friend of us since a very long time."

"I see. Please, this way," Mia nodded, guiding them to her consulting room and sitting down. "Your family members... did they pass away suddenly?"

"Yes."

"Most of the people I see are in the same boat. No warning, no goodbye, no closure..."

They all sat down too. The room was cozy and soothing, decorated with a white theme from the floor to the ceiling.

"Right, yeah. Pretty much the same for us," Sam nodded, trying to get the lie rolling. "So, how does this usually work? You know, with your patients?"

"Usually, they just start talking about the people they've lost."

"Well, they were great and now they're dead." Dean wasn't in the mood to really play along. "What's the deal with catharsis?"

"We, uh... we've heard about your process and..." Sam tried to cover up the slip.

"My program is a range of things. Talk therapy, meditation... You ever journal?" she asked, directing her gaze at the older hunter. "Dean, you journal?"

"Ever since I was a little girl."

Mia scoffed, but refused to take offense on the mocking comment.

"You think this shrink stuff is a load of crap, am I right? Then why are you here?"

"Because we all agreed we'd give it a shot, right?" Sam tried to keep things under control, but already had the feeling this wasn't going to end well. "My brother is not processing his grief."

"Really?" Dean chuckled. "No, I'm good, actually. With death, closure... whole freaking bottle of Jack."

"Are you?" Sam asked, way more serious now.

"Yeah. Because I know that Cas and Jess are dead, and I know they're not coming back." Dean was already fed up with the whole shrink game. "Alright, this is a safe place, right, Doc? Okay. My brother's delusional."

"Dean..."

"You said you wanted to give this a shot, right? Here we go." It wasn't every day he got a chance to vent out his frustrations, so Chuckdammit if he wasn't going to seize the chance now. "He won't even admit that Jess is dead. Won't even admit it."

"Stop."

"Because if he admits it, then it's real. If it's real, then he has to deal with it, and he can't handle that."

The younger brother couldn't keep it to himself anymore.

"Right, because this is so easy for you, uh?" he snapped, irked. "At least you had a chance at happiness, you had it for years and just let it slip from your fingers time and time again. But the moment I get one and decide to go for it, it disappears right in front of my eyes. And now I'm just supposed to accept that I will never have it?"

The mood in the room had turned sour, and the tension could be cut with a knife. Without adding another word, Sam got up and left.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

After unexpectedly praising Jack for the first time, Dean felt there was somebody else he also needed to make amends with. Not that is was actually necessary, but... even if this was his brother, and even if both of them knew the crap they tended to throw at each other wasn't to be taken seriously, Dean still wanted to set things right.

With a couple of beers in hand, he headed to the library, where he knew Sam was still up.

"Listen, man, back at Mia's... I was out of line," he started, offering him one of the beers and looking down. "I'm sorry for being a... a dick lately. And maybe you're right about the kid. I mean, he tries, I'll give him that. Saved our asses today, so that's a win."

"Yeah, I guess," Sam murmured, accepting the apology but dealing with his own doubts. "What if you're right? About Jess. What if she's dead and I'm just in denial?"

"Don't say that," Dean replied, shaking his head.

Sam looked at him, both surprised and confused by the sheer sadness in his brother's voice.

"What? You've been wanting me to admit that since it happened."

"I know I have, but don't say that." His eyes wondered a little, unsure how to explain his words. "You... you're not the only one fighting with denial, I am too. I know it doesn't show, but it's there. What you said at Mia's..."

"I'm sorry about that, Dean, I didn't mean..."

"Yeah, I know. Doesn't matter. Sammy, there's something you don't know about," Dean breathed deeply, his voice lower. "Since the thing with Ramiel, and before Lucifer killed him, we... Cas and I, we... we were trying something. Together. And _trying_ is the key word here."

The younger Winchester opened his mouth, aghast, but no word came out. What could he even say, seeing his brother consumed by sorrow and pain?

"Dean, I... I had no idea," he whispered. "Why didn't you tell me that you were actually going for it this time?"

"There wasn't anything to tell about, not really. We were making it up as we went, there was no solid ground under our feet. It was... it was too new and too strange, suddenly changing our relationship to something different. We only kissed a little and that was all."

Dean stopped there, unable to keep talking. The memory of their last shared kiss haunted him, constraining his bleeding heart. He couldn't shake away the guilt he felt, knowing that the last time they kissed it had been an act of anger instead of love.

"So with Jess and Cas," he continued after a moment, "I need you to keep the faith for both of us, because right now I... right now, I don't believe in a damn thing."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 _I know what you hate, and I know who you love._

 _But there is nothing for you back there. Here, let me show you._

All the lies and truths of his very long life, getting tangled in a knot so tight that it was almost impossible to untie. Oh, the Cosmic Entity was certainly trying, torturing him with constant reminders of his many failures. But it wasn't enough, it would never be enough, because at the end of the rope...

"Come on, Castiel! Wouldn't you rather be a fond memory than a constant, festering disappointment?" the Cosmic Entity taunted him, kicking him in the ribs before petting him gently. "Just lay down and try to sleep, hmm? Think about it. Infinite peace, yes? No regrets, no pain. Kiddo, save yourself."

... At the end of the rope, there was still light. There was still warmth. There was still hope. Family.

"I'm already saved."

Dean... and Sam, and Jack, and Jess. They were missing him, of that he was sure. But it wasn't easy, the state of insanity and oblivion more and more tempting by the second. He needed to somehow get the upper hand against this unbelievable ancient being.

"I will stay awake, and I will keep you awake until we both go insane," Castiel grunted. "I will fight you forever, for eternity. Release me!"

Later, the last thing he remembered was the furious look on his doppelganger's face, practically seething with rage. But it didn't matter anymore, not when he woke up in a field to the sound of birds chirping, with the sun caressing his face and a breeze blowing through his hair. Castiel smiled and inhaled the fragrant aroma of nature.

At last, he was back.

* * *

 **Asmodeus** _was a whiny little bitch. I didn't like the character, that's the only reason I got rid of him as soon as possible._

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	11. Chapter 10

_There's a scene in this chapter that I cried upon while writing. No kidding T_T_ _._

* * *

 **Chapter 10**

Dean tried to remain calm, and surprisingly, it wasn't difficult at all. Quite the opposite, all his tension was slowly flowing away. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that the newly-found incarnation of Death, the ex-reaper Billie, was right in front of him. After releasing all the trapped ghosts in Meadow's House, Dean couldn't find any other worry to latch onto, and that in itself should have been worrying, but... there was not enough fight left in him to care anymore. Yeah, the Veil tended to cause that effect when you were dead.

"Well, I figured with you in charge, there's no going back for me," Dean said, attempting to joke about it.

Billie, however, didn't seem willing to take nonsense from him.

"That doesn't sound like the Dean Winchester I know and love," she stated, walking around him to the shelves of books. "The man who has been dead so many times but it never seems to stick? Maybe you're not that guy anymore, the guy who saves the world, the guy who always thinks he'll win no matter what. You have changed, and you tell people it's not a big deal. You tell people you'll work through it, but you know you won't. You can't, and that scares the hell out of you. Or... am I wrong?"

"What do you want me to say? It doesn't matter," he smiled sadly, blurting what he believed to be true. " _I_ don't matter. I couldn't save Jess, I couldn't save Cas... I can't even save a scared little kid. Sam keeps trying to fix it, but I just keep dragging him down. So I'm not gonna beg, ok? If it's my time, then it's my time."

"You really believe that," she noted, bewildered. "You _wanna_ die. Is this because Castiel isn't with you anymore? I do wonder."

The hunter went rigid, his jaw hard and his eyes murderous.

"Shouldn't you know that, _Death_? Isn't your job now to keep track of living and dying people? Tell me, who was the lucky reaper to guide him to the afterlife?"

"Angels are different beings, Dean. No reaper gets to them, because they vanish on their own. They don't cross nor remain in the Veil after they die. There's no afterlife for them."

"Then what...?" Dean started to ask, but almost immediately a warning piqued his memory. "That was it, right? The 'cosmic consequences' you mentioned if our deal was to be broken."

Billie nodded slowly, confirming his suspicions.

"This universe has rules for a reason, and Winchesters are an affront to it," she explained. "When we made the deal, I pulled some strings for you and set a cycle in motion, that should have ended with one of you disappearing forever that night. Once initiated, the cycle couldn't be stopped. And then... your angel interfered."

"And the cycle got stuck?"

"Precisely. Imagine it as a clock," a small smile played on Billie's mouth. "We made a deal at midday, you got out at three, and Castiel killed me at six. But it doesn't mean the clock stops working, Dean, in the same way you can't stop time in a hourglass. So through seven, eight, nine and etc., the cycle continued in any way it could... until the clock struck midnight and a promised death was served."

Dean inhaled deeply, closing his eyes in despair, finally getting the complete picture. Of course, as usual it had to be more or less his fault that Cas was dead. If Sam and him had been able to escape from prison on their own, without Billie's help, Castiel wouldn't have killed her and he very possibly would still be around.

"But why? Why Cas? Why not me or Sam?"

"Because Castiel was the disrupting factor, even if he had no part in the deal. By killing me, the reaper in it, I wasn't there to collect any of your souls, so your lives couldn't be taken."

"You're basically telling me..." Dean stuttered, "that Cas' death was unnecessary. He could have survived the fight against Lucifer, right?"

"Who knows what other outcomes could have been possible," Billie answered without committing, uncrossing her arms and signalling the vast shelves. "It's the same for you, Dean. Every notebook on this particular shelf tells a version of how you die, _you_ specifically: heart attack, burned by a redhead witch, stabbed by a ghoul in a graveyard... and on and on. But which one's right? That depends on you, on the choices you make. But unfortunately, none of these books says you die today."

The mourning man frowned, unsure how to interpret the new Death's words.

"Come again?"

"Since I got this new job, I stand witness to a much larger picture. Do you know what I see? You and your brother, you're important. You have work to do, that's all you need to know. And trust me, having my eyes opened to the necessity of any human, specially Winchesters, is not a thrill. So, you wanna die, but I say keep living."

Dean swallowed, pondering his options, and decided to accept the ex-reaper's suggestion. If none of the many books there said today was his day to R.I.P., then so be it. There was always time to die on another date. But since he was already there, if he could find out just a little thing...

"Hey, I need to know, for Sam. Is Jess-?"

Before he could finish the question, Billie twisted her wrist and Dean found himself alive again, gasping loudly to get some air back in his lungs, with his brother behind patting him on the back..

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Several hours later, deep in the night, the tired brothers were on their way back to the bunker. Dean was driving as usual while Sam slept beside him, probably too shocked with the news about Billie to even try to remain awake after a hell of a day; he however needed some coffee to keep going, and so, pulled away the moment he saw the neon sign of an Open24h by the next fork.

Horrible as the cheap coffee tasted, it was still welcome.

Dean sat on his Baby's hood, alone in the parking lot, sipping the warm beverage and looking upwards. The stars were blinking beautifully. He could remember a lot of times when he or Sam or Dad were sad and depressed, but too proud to admit it; then one of them would suggest to stop for a while and stargaze. Just that, simply stargazing and chilling out (sometimes quite literally when it was winter) in the quietness of the night, and somehow it made them feel better.

Castiel liked the stars too, Dean knew. Well, the angel liked almost everything in Creation... but he had enjoyed stargazing with them, that he had said.

"Hey Cas, are you in a star now?" Dean whispered to himself. "I... I don't want to believe you simply disappeared. It wouldn't be fair, after everything you did for us. After everything you gave up. So maybe... you became something else. That's possible, right? You're still there, somewhere. Somehow. You're not gone, just... changed into another thing. A star would be fitting, they bring light into darkness. They're pretty."

The first sniffle took him by surprise. He hadn't notice how dramatic his self-speech was being.

"Dammit, I need to be drunk for this," he chastised himself, rubbing his eyes. "Should've taken a beer."

To his chagrin, rubbing his eyes only caused them to be more sensitive and wet. He sighed in defeat, knowing it was a lost battle, and allowed some tears to run free down his cheeks. And then, something he had just said hit him full force.

 _Darkness_.

Could that be the solution he so desperately wanted, needed? Would he dare, for Cas, and to fuck with whatever Sam thought? Damn, yes.

"Amara," Dean prayed in a low voice, steadying his breathing. "Uh, hello there. I... I hope all's good with Chuck, whatever you two are doing, and... I'm not even sure if you can hear prayers, but this, I thought it worthy to give it a shot. So please, if you can, I... I'd like to make my wish. I don't have the pearl with me right now, but is that really important if you hear me? Well, here it goes: I want Cas back."

Dean waited for a minute, expecting some kind of reaction, anything at all. But nothing happened.

"Hum, ok... Maybe I need to rephrase that in a certain way?" he swallowed, leaving the empty papercup of coffee on the hood and joining his hands in prayer, head slightly bowed down and eyes closed. "I pray now to the divine Darkness, who with immense generosity offered to grant me whatever wish I wanted. Now I ask for that promise to be fulfilled. I formally wish that the deceased angel known as Castiel is brought back to the world of the living, from wherever he might be. Please?"

After that, another minute of waiting made no difference at all. Perhaps he really needed to have that black tear in his hand to make it usable.

"Dammit!" he cursed.

Giving up, Dean threw the cup in the trash can and got back in the car. He scoffed at his still asleep little brother, before starting the engine and driving back to the road.

Unbeknownst to Dean, there were several reasons why his wish had failed. One of them was, obviously, he really needed to be in possession of the pearl in order to harness Amara's gift; another one was that not even the Darkness had any power over the Empty. But the third and possibly most important reason, was that she couldn't grant what had already happened.

Castiel was out of the Empty and back in Earth, but Dean wouldn't know that until an hour later, when an unknown number called his phone.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It was nice to be back at the building he called his home nowadays, and back with his family. Castiel smiled fondly, looking around his room and checking that everything was still in place. Not that he had many belongings, but there were a few trinkets here and there that he had collected from his adventures with the Winchesters. They were precious souvenirs to him, and they held important memories.

"Hey, buddy. All ok?" Dean asked, coming through the door. "You need help before we run to Dodge City?"

"No, Dean, thank you. You know that I do not have any kind of necessity for luggage."

"Well, you... you're still going to pack up anyway, like the rest of us," Dean insisted almost timidly, going to the old dresser and opening a large drawer. "See? Here's the suit for the FBI performances that I always tell you to leave hanging on the door, unless you intend to learn how to iron it yourself."

"I apologize, Dean."

The hunter stopped for a second, but didn't turn around. Instead, he closed the drawer and opened another smaller.

"And you have to bring fresh underwear," he mumbled. "I know you use your mojo to keep yourself clean, but still. Clothes get dirty even from air. You know, because pollution and all that."

"Dean," Castiel called him softly, coming closer.

"Look at this, only three tees, and they're actually mine," Dean complained, but didn't take the tees back. "Even the kid has already more clothes than you."

"Dean!" Exasperated, the angel grabbed Dean's left shoulder, where the handprint used to be, and turned him around. "Why are you not looking at me? Since I greeted Jack and you decided that we should follow his case, you have been avoiding me."

"Cas, I..." Dean tried, but got stuck.

He wasn't able to voice the words out, everything he needed to say and wanted to convey to the seraph. After all, he had always been a man of actions.

Dean also grabbed the angel's opposite shoulder, caging them both at arm's length, but it wasn't enough reassurance. He craved the feeling of Castiel's solid, tangible, _real_ figure near him. His hand slipped down the angelic arm, the texture of the trenchcoat so familiar to him, until reaching the other's fingers. He pulled gently at them, and instantly Dean got an armful of celestial beatitude against his whole body.

Castiel let him do as he pleased, the need of comfort a very well known feeling to him.

Breathing softly, Dean rested his head against the angel's neck and inhaled slowly, closing his eyes and drowning in the ethereal smell. Castiel smelled of things that were merely poetic, things that humans couldn't actually smell. In the vessel's skin there was sun, and rain, and thunder. The warmth of the body collided with the sensation of smelling the wind, and Dean loved it. He didn't know if all angels emanated similar odours, but either way he couldn't care less. To him, it was something only _Eau de Cas_.

Feeling suddenly bold, Dean's hands travelled from Castiel's back to his waist, where they tugged at the shirt until getting the hem out and slipping inside, seeking skin. They rested there, fingertips drawing circles and occasionally brushing upwards.

"Dean?" Castiel called him, worried.

But Dean didn't hear him. He began kissing his friend's nape as far as he could reach, nibbling and tasting the neck, lips leaving small wet spots. His breathing had picked up its pace, almost panting. His hands were becoming more and more curious, sliding under Castiel's shirt up and down, and about to reach his chest. Then he started shaking.

"Dean, stop," Castiel ordered, trying to disentangle himself from the intimate hug.

"No. I need it. Please, Cas."

"Dean... Dean, listen to me. Hear my voice," the angel cooed tenderly, stroking the hunter's head. "We are extremely close at this moment, and I... I perceive very clearly that this is not what you think it is. Dean, you are not even aroused."

Castiel's words made him stop his tender ministrations, but his breathing remained out of control. It was true, though. He wasn't hard in the slightest.

"This is anxiety, Dean. Try to calm down," Castiel said, holding his beloved human in his arms. "I am back here with you, and I am real. I am not going to disappear again. Breathe with me."

Practically clinging to the seraph, Dean obeyed. His head went on loops for a couple of minutes, dizzy, but eventually he regained control of himself.

"I'm good now," he spoke lowly, letting go the angel and looking at him. "Thanks. I... I missed you, Cas. Missed you so damn much."

"I knew it, Dean. I also heard you wishing me to a star," Castiel said, touched. "I appreciate the beautiful sentiment. I fought to be back, and listening to you still praying to me, _for_ me, even when you believed me dead again... I desired so strongly to return to Earth, and to you."

Just to prove his point, Castiel pecked him tenderly. And Dean finally smiled.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

'Don't do anything stupid', Dean had asked of him. And as much as Castiel tried to follow his instructions whenever he could, the hunter seemed to forget that sometimes _stupid_ was the only available course of action. Like right now, having Duma's blade to his throat.

"Please, Castiel," she begged him regretfully. "Just for one last time, stand with us to protect our kin. I don't really want to force you, but you don't know how desperate is the situation in Heaven."

"No, Duma. _You_ are the ones who don't understand how important the promise I made is. You only want Jack for his potential."

"His potential, if channelled adequately, might be the only thing capable of saving us all, Castiel!"

There was desperation in her voice, and a bit of remorse. Castiel felt the barely perceptible tremble on her blade hand, and he... he believed her. Whatever was happening upstairs, Duma desired there was another way to solve it. However, enslaving Jack was not an acceptable method.

"I'm sorry, Duma, but I can't," Castiel answered. "And I'm also sorry for doing this."

Despite all his reassurances to Dean when he had wanted to accompany him, Castiel wasn't that confident about the meeting as he feigned to be. Even while looking around frenetically for a missing Jack, the seraph had been cautious enough to set a back-up plan. Or better said, a flee plan.

In a fast move, he grabbed the edge on his throat with a hand and slid his palm over it, cutting it harsh enough to draw blood. With his other hand, he busted open his shirt and smeared the red liquid on the sigil that, once again, he had carved in his skin. The light flashed instantly, sending the angels away and leaving him alone in the playground.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Several weeks had passed.

Slowly and painfully, Jessica turned her neck around, trying to work off some of the knots that invaded her abused and tortured body. Not that she achieved much, though, considering she was locked in a tiny cell without barely any food or water to keep her alive. Almost no space around and having to sleep on the cold bare floor did that to a human. She couldn't even understand anymore how life was without her every muscle yelling in pain whenever she attempted to move.

Oh, how much her transient mental alienation had cost her. You dare to slap the Devil just once, and you get thrown into Hell. Well, more or less.

Speaking of the Devil, where was he? After arriving to this apocalyptic world, being chased by him, almost being raped by a stranger and consequently being saved by Lucifer, another angel had found them: Michael, apparently the big brother of the family. They had fought and Lucifer had been captured, same as her. Not that she missed him, but it worried her not to know what happened, because whatever it was, she most likely was next on the list.

There was blood on her clothes and dirt under her nails. Her whole body shuddered in fear every time she heard steps on the hallway.

"If Sam was here, we could play to match some of our scars," she spoke to herself, trying to cheer up. "Some of these are definitely going to be permanent."

Jessica thought about Sam, if he was ok, if he was safe. Did the rift close in time to protect him? And Dean? With Lucifer out of the picture, what new enemy could have showed up? She thought about the nephilim, that poor innocent baby, and hoped the best for him. Sam was probably taking care of Jack, because he was that good. She imagined him changing diapers and singing lullabies; it made her smile a little, because Sam was not one to sing. Neither one to cook, so Jessica was pretty sure that Dean must be the one preparing the milk bottles.

Was Sam mourning her? Did he believe she was dead again? Had he...?

A loud thump outside her jail interrupted her musings. With barely any real curiosity, Jessica turned her gaze to the other side of the grill and saw someone new, someone who wasn't there a second before. A young man was getting up, no more than a teenager, with blond hair and innocent eyes.

Innocent _golden_ eyes.

"Kaia?" the boy spoke, looking around. "Kaia, where are you?"

Jessica got closer to the grill and peered around too, but as far as she reached to see, there was nobody else there. The boy was alone.

"Who are you?" she asked, startling him. "How did you get here?"

"I... I'm looking for someone," he answered, staring at her intently.

"This Kaia?"

"No, she... she was the one helping me coming here, but I don't feel her presence. She must have stayed behind, in our world," he explained. "Are you... Jessica?"

"Yes?" she confirmed, confused. "How do you know?"

"So I've found you," the boy grinned so happily, like seeing the sun after a rainy day. "After all the searching and failing, at last I've located you!"

"What are you talking about? Who...?"

"I recognize your essence. I remembered it very well." The boy came closer to her, touching lightly the grid of the cell. "You were the first person to hold me when I was born. I sensed sadness, but also hope... and tenderness. I'm Jack."

"Jack?"

Jessica frowned, bewildered. What Jack? The only one she could think about was... Kelly's son. She had in fact held him, but that Jack was only a baby. It couldn't be this same boy, right? Unless... unless her mind was playing tricks on her. How much time had actually passed? She had calculated several weeks, but this boy looked about to be of age. Or, was this Jack even really there?

"You can't be, Jack is only a baby. Are you even real?"

"I am. I grew up fast, but it's me. You got lost, and... I've come to bring you back home. With Sam and Dean and Castiel."

"Cas is dead," she stuttered, her head filled with doubts.

"No, he's not! Well, he was, we even burned his body. But he came back, just like you. They also thought you were dead and you're not." His voice had gradually became a murmur. "Why are you crying? I thought you would be happy."

The woman rubbed her cheeks, blurring wetness and dirt over her gaunt face.

"I am happy. It's only that... it will be so heartbreaking when I wake up."

"You're not dreaming," he stated as a matter of fact.

Stepping to action, Jack grabbed the padlock of the cell and melted it with his bare hands until it fell. He then pushed the door open and went in.

"Come with me, Jessica," he asked, opening his arms. "This time, I'll be the one holding you. And as soon as we figure out how, we'll go home."

Home... back to Sam? Even if it was only a dream, that was exactly where she wanted to be. Maybe, if she managed to be asleep a little while more, she would see him again.

Her choice made, Jessica draped her arms around the golden-eyed boy and closed her eyes, sighing wistfully. A flapping sound of wings was the last thing she heard before falling into unconsciousness.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	12. Chapter 11

_Weaving canon and original it's not as easy as it may seem... ugh_ _._

* * *

 **Chapter 11**

The older Winchester came downstairs stilly, a couple of KFC buckets in his arms. It smelled really good, and if not because he had already eaten a mean burger a little ago, he would have been tempted to steal a piece or two. But the succulent treats were not for him but for the unfortunate Donatello, that once more had been dragged into one of their messes because... you know, Prophet of the Lord's duty and all that. So the least they could do was to make sure the professor was well fed.

"Hey, Donny. You doing good?" Dean asked, entering the library and putting the two buckets in front of him. "I got your chicken."

"Yes, yes, thank you... I'm making progress," Donatello answered, slightly recoiling on his end of the table.

"Awesome. Just, uh... tell us if you want anything else, ok?"

The hunter slapped amiably his back before retreating to the other side of the room, back to the map in the war room where Sam was studying whatever it was in that book with the fancy French title.

"Hey, what about you? You can't keep going on coffee and carrots forever."

"Well, I had cabbage for dinner today, so..." Sam answered, not looking up from his book.

"Whoa, that's impressive," Dean sneered. "Sometimes I wonder where you get proteins to sustain your muscles. At least now you don't need that many, since your girly mane is no more."

"Ha ha, very funny, Dean."

The somber tone indicated Dean that his little brother wasn't really in the mood for small talk. Bracing himself for what he hoped wasn't going to be a chick-flick moment, he sat down in front of Sam, ready to listen to whatever crap was probably coming his way.

"Ok, something's going on with you, so spit it out. What's up?"

"What do you mean? Nothing's going on."

"Sammy," Dean grumbled. "We've gone through this kind of idle chit-chat all our lives, and sooner or later we both end spilling the beans. So save us the time and just tell me."

Sighing deeply, Sam finally raised his eyes from the book and looked directly at the older Winchester, doubtful.

"What makes you think anything's the matter, Dean?"

"You really asking me that? As if the shadows on your face weren't enough, there's also your attitude. You're snarky, grumpy, and haven't shaved in a week. Next thing I'll know, you'll be eating greasy food."

"I'm not..."

"You're gloomy," Dean insisted. "And while I can make a pretty good guess about why, what I want to know is if there's any way I can help you through it. I mean, it's been a while since you're not acting like yourself."

"Oh, really. Please, do enlighten me," Sam was starting to get defensive.

Dean leaned back on his chair and looked away for a brief moment, considering what he was about to say, because he didn't want to sound accusing.

"When we got to Jack after he had run away and found out that Jess was still alive, trapped in the alternate universe, you... looked overwhelmed, Sammy. Which I think is completely understandable, don't get me wrong. But later, when that girl Kaia refused to dreamwalk for us, you..." Dean stopped for a second, lowering his voice, "you aimed a gun to her face and forced her to get in the car. And I know we were all in danger, with the angels close tracing us, but still."

Sam rubbed a hand over his face, distressed. He however made no attempt to stop his brother.

"Then Rowena suddenly appears again out of nowhere, gets us tangled in whatever scheme she intended to pull off, and you decide to help her unbind? Like she wasn't enough trouble before. And now look," Dean pointed to Donatello. "Your last idea was to bring out the Demon Tablet and make the poor guy work for us, like he hasn't anything better to do with his life."

"Alright then, Dean. Did you finish throwing at me all the awful things I've done recently?" Sam snapped.

"I'm not thro-... Look, man. I'm just saying that those aren't the usual things you'd do."

"Dean," Sam replied, clenching his jaw. "Not long ago, when you were the one depressed, you told me that you needed a big win; you got it when Cas came back. And it's not like I'm not happy that he returned to us, because of course I am, but... I mean he's _your_ big win. And now that I know Jess is alive, I'd like to have mine too. That's all."

"Ok, I get it. You're not the only one that would like to have Jess back, we all would," Dean nodded thoughtfully. "And I know how much we need that spell to open the rift again and save both her and the kid, before they end like the dreamwalker girl, but rushing along the way has never done us any favour, Sam. Just a reminder."

The younger hunter didn't answer anything to that, and for a little while, the only thing heard in the bunker was Donatello mumbling over the Demon Tablet and his notes.

"By the way, I'm curious to ask," Sam spoke, frowning seriously. "How did Cas react to your spell-induced love confession to a witch?"

"What the hell, Sam? What does that have to do with anything?" Dean grunted loudly, getting up and heading to the kitchen. "I need a beer. And some bacon too. And you mind your own business, bitch!"

"Jerk!"

Sam sounded frustrated, his curiosity unsatisfied, but there was also a bit of laugh in his voice. Dean noticed it, perfectly audible to him through the echoing walls of the bunker, and couldn't help but smile just a little too.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Among the faint clarity of a new day yet to be and the unnerving hollers of the forest, a hooded figure holding a forked spear walked cautiously to inspect the corpse on the ground. It was a young girl, wearing strange clothing that looked old and worn out at some places, and that now was stained with blood already coagulated. But her small built, the tanned skin, the dark hair... were all traits very well known by the hooded figure, for they were also its own. Only the dead girl's fearful eyes were different.

"At long last," it whispered, crouching and taking the corpse on its arms. "I'm sorry it happened this way, but your blood has already run cold. My last piece."

Uncovering its head, dark and unruly tresses of hair fell out the hood. Supporting the dead body over one of its bent knees, it held the girl's face with a hand, in a manner that it could rest its forehead over hers. Then, closing its eyes, it sang some kind of enchantment in a low voice.

During the whole song, the forest seemed to become quieter, listening to the secret magic that was unravelling there. Not a single bird dared to interrupt with their own cawling. And all the while, note after note, the body of the girl turned dustier and less consistent, all her cells being absorbed by the hooded figure until only the bloodied clothes remained, empty.

"Kaia Nieves," the figure spoke after finishing the song. "Not the worst I've been called. It's an acceptable name to take as mine. Be welcome home, back to me. Together again as a whole."

The sun was about to rise in the forest, already scraping the east. The giant needed to be fed, in order to not have it chasing after her. That was a battle she knew from experience not be able to win, or even survive once more. But then again... she didn't need to stay there anymore, right? She had already joined all her pieces back together. Finally, she could leave.

Concentrating on her last piece's memories, the reborn Kaia took back her forked spear and hit the ground with the bottom end. Once, twice, thrice... again and again, setting a rhythm that reverberated across the forest, through the trees, alerting the monsters of her location. It wasn't long 'til she was surrounded by a group of them, then she stopped and looked around, counting.

"Eighteen, maybe twenty," she spoke to herself. "It wouldn't be an easy battle... if I even had the intention to fight. Thank you for the help, vermin."

And putting her hood back on, she rapidly got down on a knee. Holding the spear with both hands, she slammed the bottom end one last time to the ground, casting another enchantment. Instantly, a circle of green light erupted from the spot, several metres wide. All the monsters and other creatures in its radius were obliterated without a trace, not even screams lasting enough to disturb the usual calm of the forest.

"Koth munto nuntox."

After Kaia uttered the last words of the enchantment, a bright pole of energy broke out of thin air right in front of her. A door to another world. An escape to another reality.

Without a single doubt, she leapt through it.

At the other side, it was night. She had arrived to was seemed to be a clearing, but near enough, Kaia recognized the sounds of civilization that her last piece had provided her knowledge of. The breeze blew gently, and it didn't smell of death and blood.

Kaia smiled, her eyes shining. She already liked it here.

Right as the door closed behind her, another presence made its appearance, making her bristle. It was an awful presence, as much as the ones she knew from her own world. Without thinking, reacting purely on instinct, Kaia turned around while making a fast 360º sweeping with her spear, just in case something attacked her. No luck, though. The awful presence had materialized far enough from her to be harmed.

"Good moves," the being said, as if impressed.

Kaia kept on guard. The presence had the form of a mature woman wearing a fringed jacket, and her features sported a light resemblance to herself. If not for the nasty aura that emanated from her, at first sight she could have fooled Kaia as a human.

"What are you?" she asked her, ready to fight.

"What do you mean, _What_? Wouldn't the polite question be _Who_?" the woman snarled. "Really, kids these days... they don't know how to respect their elders."

"I hardly would be considered a kid," Kaia replied. "And you are not a who. I see your real face behind the human mask."

"You can," the woman accepted, this time sounding genuinely impressed. "So I was right. The moment you stepped out that portal, I could feel it. The energy that flowed through you, it's not from this world."

"You are not completely wrong, but neither are you right."

The woman let out a thunderous laugh.

"Oh, I do love a good mystery, after spending eons drowning in boredom. Sadly, I have not the patience to solve riddles. And you tease me as a good one, certainly... Look good, smell better, and probably will taste the best."

"I'm not edible," Kaia joked, not scared in the littlest.

"There's something in you that attracted me," the woman confessed, walking closer towards the fightress. "I'll know what it was very soon. And will our name be Legion, because we are many."

Kaia barely acknowledged the threat, getting ready for battle. Whatever this ancient creature was, it wouldn't be worse than the titan she spent many _lives_ surviving and running from. At least now she was finally whole.

She would fight, and she wouldn't fall. Not again, ever.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Outside the angels' prison, things weren't any prettier. There were frequent simoun during the day, the air dry and barely breathable, while the nights were dark and moonless. The constant thick blanket of grey clouds made it difficult for any kind of climate to regulate itself, but at least where they were hidden, in the woods, enough green had resisted as to give them fresh air and a somehow moderate temperature.

Jessica looked at her hands while extending them to the bonfire. She recently had cut her nails blunt. Her hands used to be clean and soft, but now they were knotty, and most of the time also dirty. Her whole body felt grimy, and she couldn't remember the last time she took a bath worthy of that name because water wasn't that easy to come around, and it was mostly reserved for consumption. Wet towels were a poor substitute, but at least Jessica knew she wasn't going to die dehydrated.

"Good morning, Jessica. How was the watch?"

"Hello, Bobby." She smiled at the hunter, that gave her a warm cup of something that intended to be coffee and some insipid biscuits. "Nothing out of ordinary."

"Hmp. Never sure if that's a good thing or not," he joked, sitting down next to her. "Where's the kid?"

"Jack is looking around, making sure the sigils are fresh and remain in place."

"I'm still a bit irked that they don't work in a hybrid, but then again... I guess that shows how much human he also is."

"Yes," she agreed, happy. "That's the kind of thing Sam would say."

"Your fiancé, right?" Bobby pointed at her ring. "That tall lad from the other world, Sam Winchester. Looked like a good man."

"He is. The other you was very proud of him, of both of them. That's what I've been told."

"Oh, cheer up, young lady! Don't you dare use this old man's shoulder to dry your tears on. Keep them for when you reunite with him, 'cause I'm sure he'll be delighted to act as your handkerchief."

"Bobby, you meanie!" Jessica laughed despite herself. "You know that might not ever be possible. Even if Jack opened another rift, he can't see if it would lead us to our own world."

"Well, ain't possible to be worse than this," the hunter opined. "I'd take the chance and hope to get lucky."

Jessica pondered his words for a while, sipping her distasteful beverage. When she and Jack escaped, they were already incredible lucky finding Bobby and his small group of refugees, and even luckier when he accepted them in instead of abandoning them to their fates. She was kinda wary of taking any more chances, knowing that sooner or later their good streak had to end.

"About that... Bobby, there's something I'd like to discuss with you."

The man nodded, listening.

"Go ahead, what is it?"

"If you really believe what you have just told me," Jessica breathed deeply before dropping the bomb, "would you consider the possibility of coming with us? Your entire group?"

Bobby looked firmly at her, befuddled. And slowly, a stern frown settled on his face. Before answering, he looked back and around, making sure nobody else was near enough to hear their conversation.

"No," he said in a steady, low voice. "I won't. And I forbid you to ask such a thing to anyone else."

"What? But why?"

"Jessica..." Bobby shook his head. "You and that angel kid may be jumping from one universe to another because of circumstances, but that's not ok. No matter what shitty world you are born in, that's where you should be, that's where you belong. I'm not a genius of physics, but I'm sure that people is not meant to travel through cosmic fabric."

"Well, you don't seem to mind that much that our Lucifer is trapped here, after everything you surely had to suffer because of your own Devil."

"Haa..." Bobby dragged a hand down his tired face. "That's different. Have you seen my group? Counted them? Barely a dozen of us here, and still we are actually many together in comparison. There's no more left. Uh, I mean... perhaps there are some other teams around the world, but civilization as we knew it has already disappeared. Humankind is going extinct, because the few that remain are either vessels that willingly found their peace in Heaven, or monsters that prey among themselves."

Jessica felt a painful strain in her heart. She hadn't thought the situation was that terrible.

"This world is already lost," the hunter continued, grievously. "In a couple generations, probably no human will walk this planet. That's why I don't mind hosting another Devil. Better here than back in your world, where there's still so much life to destroy. Meanwhile I'll stay here, shooting as many winged dicks as I can."

Jessica opened her mouth, willing to argue and find something that could make him change his mind, but at that moment whistling sounds started to rain upon them. Seconds later, a great rumble landed in the middle the camp.

"ANGELS!" Bobby reacted immediately. "Everyone to their post! Jessica, run and take cover!"

She was more than ready to obey, but before she could move, more angels landed around them. When the cloud of dust dissipated, they saw one of the angels walking leisurely to them.

"Michael," Jessica whispered in fear, recognizing him.

"You, the human from the other world. Nice rat hole you hid in. It took me a while to find it."

"What do you want?" Bobby asked in her place. "Already had your fun with your brother and need another toy?"

"Right now I have no interest in you, hunter, so be quiet." With a swing of his hand, the archangel send him flying several metres away. "Do not bother me, and you might make it out alive today."

"Bobby!" Jessica yelled, trying to go to his help, but Michael immobilized her in the spot. "You damn bastard, let me go!"

"I don't think so," he grinned proudly. "You see, for such an insignificant creature like you, I admit I was surprised too when I learned how much useful you could actually be."

"What are you talking about?"

"There's this little plan of mine, about visiting your world and lend it my guiding hand, but in order to do that, I need to collect some very specific ingredients for a spell. One of them, archangel's grace, got it plenty from my brother; the others weren't much of a problem either. But for the last one... tsk, that really got me worried for a moment. Fortunately, I remembered your existence."

"I... I don't know what you mean," she stuttered, trying to break free but to no avail.

"Of course you don't," Michael scoffed. "Truthfully, I don't get it either, what would make you so special to be worthy of the effort. As it happens, the last ingredient is the blood of a most holy man, which you can imagine isn't exactly abundant around here. But I learned from Lucifer that you were touched by God, resurrected by him, so let us hope that's holy enough to work."

"I'm a woman. I'd say the obvious answer is that you're not going anywhere."

"You silly ape. _Man_ refers to the species, not the gender." The archangel walked to her, angel blade in hand. "Now, don't move."

Not like she had an option anyway. Before she could utter another word, Michael stabbed her right below where her sternum ended.

"Don't worry, it's not a lethal wound," Michael spoke, pulling out the blade and receiving her blood in a basin. "Who knows how many more times may I need you?"

After taking what he considered enough, he healed her wound and let her fall to the ground, weak for the blood loss and in pain. Jessica started coughing, feeling like she wasn't getting enough air in her lungs. Not bothering to look at her again, Michael took out the vial with Lucifer's grace and poured it in the basin with the other ingredients.

"Mah ray, fay doh, em lah. Kah day, em lah! KAH DAY, EM LAH!"

As he finished the chanting, the coveted interdimensional rip appeared in front of him.

"Well done, woman. You have proven your worth, so you may live. Take her back to the prison!" Michael ordered the other angels. "I'll call and gather the troops. We have a funny trip ahead of us."

While Michael dazed off in message mode, the angels started advancing, closing around Jessica, but before any of them could lay a hand on her, another flapping of wings came uninvited.

"Jess!" Jack yelled, raising his hand. "Get away from her, don't touch her!"

Eyes glowing golden, Jack vaporized all the angels that had invaded the camp and ran to Jessica's side.

"Jess, talk to me, please. Are you alright?" he asked frenetically, helping her sit up and seeing the blood that stained her shirt. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm... I'm okay, Jack. Thanks for saving me," she assured him. "Where were you?"

"When I went to check on the sigils, they were all gone. I remade them, but by the time it was done, I sensed the angels were already inside."

"Michael... he has opened a rift, Jack! We have to stop him. We can't let him cross to our world!"

"What? How do you even know it's our world?"

"Because Michael said he had seen it through Lucifer!"

Jack was taken aback for a second, hearing the name of his no-father, but recovered rapidly.

"If that's true... that means we can go home, right?" he guessed.

"I don't think so, boy."

While Jack and Jess were worrying about stopping Michael, the archangel had already finished his call and was ready for battle.

"It's an amazing world, that where you come from. No God present and chaos everywhere. I've taken an interest, and I'll set it back on its right path. But you, a nephilim, could prove to be useful, as the woman has. So if you want to join me, I'll welcome you, _nephew_."

"No, I... I won't let you hurt anyone else," Jack threatened, raising his hand again. "I'll protect them!"

"Oh, please. Just try it."

With barely a flap of his wings, Michael sent a powerful wave of grace towards Jack that made him lose his footing, falling away. Jack crawled on his elbows, getting up again, frustrated because he didn't have full control over his own power yet. But he could do it, he knew he could. Just needed to focus a little bit more...

His eyes lighted up again, allowing him to rein his grace at will. This time he was the one attacking, trapping the archangel mid-air in a golden bubble where he couldn't move freely or strike back.

"Jack, the rift!" Jessica screamed desperately. "It's closing!"

It was true. For whatever reason, this tear in space and time wasn't as stable as the one he had opened before being born. The bright light was already sizzling and becoming thinner.

Still trapping a very furious Michael, Jack walked back beside Jessica and helped her up on her feet.

"What do we do?"

Jessica held his free hand.

"Let's go home, Jack," she pleaded. "I'm sure they're waiting for us. I'd just wish that Bobby..."

Her voice failed her, looking over where the hunter had been thrown. Bobby was already standing, searching around for more angels to come.

"The hell you're waiting for, a farewell parade?" he shouted at them, feigning anger. "Get out of my sight already, you troublemakers!"

They both nodded, Jessica waving her other hand in goodbye. Jack tensed, not knowing how much he could help the hunter, but he concentrated all the power he could muster on the archangel. Moving his hand, he raised him far in the air, above the trees, and threw the golden bubble the furthest he was able to imagine.

"Thanks for all, guys! Glad to meet you!"

Bobby's kind words were the last thing Jessica and Jack heard before walking into the rift.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"What exactly gives you the right, Cas?" Dean asked, seething.

"I am deeply stricken for what has befell Donatello because of the Demon Tablet," Castiel said, sorrow tinted in his voice. "But I will not apologize for doing what was necessary. This was unavoidable, Dean. He already was beyond help. At least this way he will not further endanger himself, nor anyone else."

The hunters weren't happy at all with such an excuse, but it was already done. The Prophet of the Lord laid brain-dead in a hospital, and they still had work to do. As usual, their angel friend had taken upon himself the hardest part of whatever situation they were in, so they didn't have to.

"Well, there's nothing we can do about it now, so... let's make it that at least it's not in vain," Sam sighed. "What did you squeeze from him, Cas?"

"We need four major ingredients in order to open the rift: archangel's grace, a fruit from the Tree of Life, the Seal of Solomon, and the blood of a most holy man. If we find these things, we can bring everyone home."

Both brothers grimaced. Not even one of those things sounded any easy to come by.

"I don't even know what are some of these ingredients," Sam admitted.

"About the Seal of Solomon..." Castiel started, but was suddenly interrupted when all the lightbulbs in the bunker flickered.

Before they could prepare for anything, a high screech preceded the opening of their very much desired rift right in the middle of the library. A couple of seconds later, two people came through it, landing on their butts.

"What the hell?" Dean shouted, perplexed at was he was seeing.

A half-angel kid, leaning on his elbows on the floor, and a very missed (and messed up) young woman, resting on her side. It was them, Jess and Jack, who apparently had made their way home totally on their own.

"Hey," Jack cheerfully greeted, smiling. "We're hungry. What's for dinner?"

* * *

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	13. Chapter 12

_Ok, less canon and more original step by step!_

* * *

 **Chapter 12**

The rift closed almost instantly. Sam was the first to react, hurrying and falling to his knees besides Jessica and taking her into his arms. The battered woman closed hey eyes and whimpered as he rocked her body, but she didn't complain. Even being just stabbed, this was still the most comfortable she had been in weeks.

"Jess, my precious Jess..." Sam called her, frantic when he finally looked at her again and saw all the blood on her clothes. "What's wrong? Cas!"

"Yes, I know. Please, allow me."

The angel crouched beside her and touched her forehead, willing his grace to heal his friend. However, he quickly perceived that most of her injuries had been inflicted with angelic weapons, which meant he couldn't heal them completely. They would require time in the human way.

"She is alright, Sam," Castiel said reassuringly. "Or as much as she can be, given the circumstances of her prior absence."

"What do you mean? What's with the blood?"

"In the other world, Michael stabbed her to take her blood, but he also healed her," Jack explained, standing up.

"WHAT?!" Dean shouted, unbelieving. "The hell Michael are you talking about? Why did he do that to Jess?"

"Dean," Castiel looked intently at him, frowning. "There is no need for yelling. I am sure Jessica would appreciate if we all keep calm. I guess that even if this Michael healed her after stabbing her, he did not bother relieving her of the pain of the wound."

"Sam..." Jessica whispered against the crook of his neck. "I missed you so much, puppy."

"Me too, precious," he sobbed, holding her close, and then chuckling softly. "Uh, sorry to ruin this rendezvous, but you kinda stink."

"You mutt! Do you think I was taking a holiday in a spa?" Despite the sour reply, she was smiling weakly. "There was no flower essences there, you know?"

"I see," Sam kissed her forehead before getting up and carrying her bridal style. "Well, stinky or not, what matters is having you back with me. But you're gonna shower before you get into a fresh bed to rest."

"Sam, I can barely move..."

"And that's why _I'll_ be bathing you, precious."

Completely ignoring the other three people in the room and their amused (Dean) or confused (Castiel) looks, Sam headed down the hallway to the locker room and the only bathtub in the bunker. Right before getting out of earshot, they heard Jack asking in innocent curiosity:

"Do people usually bathe each other?"

Managing carefully to open and close the door without dropping Jessica, the hunter turned on the lights and sat her on the wide edge of the recessed bathtub. It was large enough to comfortably fit a lying-down person, even one as big as Sam. After opening the faucet, soon steam started to warm the room.

"Precious, are you awake?" Sam asked, lifting one of her arms to take off the grimy jacket.

"More or less. But I'll doze off as soon as you get me in hot water."

"Don't fight it if you fall asleep," he advised her, holding her by the waist for a second to slide her ragged jeans down her buttocks. "I promise I won't let you drown."

"Oh, are you getting kinky ideas, you sly dog?"

"Yeah, you wish!"

"... Actually I do," Jessica said, humour suddenly gone from her voice.

Sam frowned, a bit confused for the unexpected shift in the mood, but he got a quite good guess for the reason as soon as he undressed Jessica to her undergarments.

Her whole body was covered in marks. There were some shallow scratches that caused Sam no concern, but also several bruises of different colouring, a clear sign of frequent beatings. Maybe one or two could be of another origin, perhaps fighting or a clumsy fall, but this many... There were blistering burns on the soles of her feet, obviously to prevent easy escaping by running. One of her elbows was swollen, evidencing that she had somehow twisted it not long ago. A fresh new scar below her sternum. And last, on her left thigh, there were three cauterized gashes, as if something had ripped her with a scorching claw.

Sam grimaced when he saw it. Due to the vast experience he had about wounds, he knew that one would never completely heal. It was going to show forever.

"Sam?" Jessica looked at him, worried and insecure. "Am I still pretty to you?"

"Of course you are, Jess," he said, hugging her delicately, and hardly containing the sniffles that fought to leave his throat. "You're my precious jewel, and that's not gonna change, ever. You'll always be beautiful to me."

The Winchester let go of her and kissed her once, caressing her head. After stripping Jessica down completely, he took her in his arms again and put her in the water, slowly and carefully, watching her reaction for signs of pain or discomfort. There was none except a little hiss when she was fully covered by the hot water, warming her body like she had yearned for weeks.

Sam let her relax in the calm atmosphere for a few minutes, before going to the shower stall that she normally used and retrieving her sponge. He had missed the smell of her bath gel.

"I lost my panties in another world," Jessica chuckled tiredly when Sam started gently rubbing her arm. "It sounds like the beginning of a really bad novel."

"It does."

"At least they weren't the ones with the Smurfs theme. You like those."

"I like any panties that happen to be on you," Sam smiled, adding to the joke. "But the moment they're off, they strangely lose all their appeal."

"I remember. Sexy lingerie was totally wasted on you, puppy."

"Jess...

"When I recover, I expect to see you in polkadot stockings again."

"Jess!" he exclaimed, a bit flustered. "You're making it very difficult for me to maintain a proper mindset right now."

"Am I? Oh, I'm _so_ sorry..." she apologized playfully, before sighing again. "I just missed you, Sam. I was afraid all the time. I feared that I'd never see you again."

The hunter kissed her temple as he pushed her a bit forward, and started scrubbing her back.

"I know, precious. Me too."

They didn't talk anymore, and Sam thought Jessica had really fallen asleep. He bathed her tenderly, cleaning the dirt from her injuries; he would apply disinfectant on some later, just in case. He washed her hair twice, because after the first time, the water in the bathtub had already turned murky and grey. The second time, the shower rinsed everything off.

After drying her, Sam wrapped Jessica in a another fluffy towel and picked her up bridal style again, intending to leave her in her bedroom to keep sleeping. But the moment Jessica sensed they were on the move again, she snuggled on his shoulder.

"I'll be cold, puppy," she mumbled, not opening her eyes. "Don't go, please. Keep me warm."

"Are you still awake?" Sam asked, considering what to do. "Are you hungry? Do you want to eat anything?"

Jessica shook her head, snuggling further against his body, and Sam decided he could wait a few more hours to know what had happened in the alternate universe, because he was staying with his fiancée and that was final.

He entered his bedroom, put Jessica on the bed and closed the door. He made her drink a couple of glasses of water before she passed out completely. Sam had to tuck the both of them under the sheets, but when he was finally able to lie down with her, there wasn't a single trace of complaint in his heart.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It happened every time. Every freaking time they thought the world was safe and sound, something else happened and everything crumbled to the ground, and this time was no different. AltMichael, as Dean very cleverly had named him, was apparently a brain-sneaking douchebag with massive wanderlust, and had chosen their universe as his vacationing place. What a joy.

"And then AltMichael said that my blood should be holy enough and stabbed me," Jessica was telling between spoonfuls of soup. "As it seems, he was right."

"Yeah, go figures," Sam snorted, pinching his nose.

"What about Lucifer?" Castiel asked, concern in his voice.

"I didn't see him again after we were captured, but I don't think he was treated any better than me. Quite the opposite, actually, if AltMichael really took his grace for the spell. I mean, his own brother?"

"Yeah, well. Angels are pretty much dicks with wings," Dean sneered, earning a disgruntled frown from Castiel. "No offense, Cas."

"That might give us some time to take the upper hand on him," Sam pondered. "Even if AltMichael didn't take it all, Lucifer's grace is going to take a while to regenerate. And if he didn't want to spend his own, even when no other choice was available, I doubt he'll do it now when he already has another source."

Every other person in the room looked at him like he had just grown another head. Was he serious?

"Sammy, why in Hell would _we_ want to go to _him_?" the older hunter snarled. "The only reason we wanted that spell from the Demon Tablet was to get Jess and Jack back home, and they're already here. We don't need to cross dimensions anymore."

"If we don't go, then eventually he will come, Dean. We can't let that happen! And if what AltBobby said is true..." he looked sadly at Jess, and she nodded, "then better fight him there than here."

Dean snorted loudly, dragging a hand down his face. Damn his smartass of a little brother.

"I think Sam is right," Jack supported him. "The world I opened a door to... You were there only a little while, but I was days, and Jess was weeks. You don't know how it is, but we do. There are ashes everywhere, electric storms, savage creatures... rotting corpses wherever you go. But humans? There's barely any left. Their souls have already departed."

"Well, as good as that sounds, we're anyway in the same situation as AltMichael," Dean said, leaning back on his chair. "Or perhaps even worse, because sooner or later he'll be able to come, holy blood or not. But we can't get our hands on archangel's grace, not to mention the other two ingredients."

"Why not?" Jessica asked.

"Because there are no archangels left," Castiel explained. "Gabriel and Raphael are dead, Lucifer is already in the other world, and Michael... our Michael is out of reach, in the Cage, down in Hell."

"Didn't you get Sam and Dean out of Hell before?"

"It was different. Dean was more or less free in Hell, and I battled alongside my garrison to keep the demons out of the way. For Sam, I received help from the King of Hell, and even so, I was only able to raise his body through a crack in the Cage."

"But maybe you could summon Michael, like you did before with Lucifer, right?" Jessica suggested. "And... I don't know, distract him enough to collect his grace? How that even works, by the way?"

"Precious, there's no way we could get close enough to Michael to extract even a little bit of his grace," Sam swallowed hard, looking down. "And the summoning itself is impossible. I think we could convince Rowena to help us again, since she kinda owes me, but breaking into Hell? No way. You pretty much need a personal invitation."

Dean's gaze wandered around, and wished he had a beer to distract himself with. He knew very well what was ailing his little brother at this moment, for it was the same thing that had gnawed at himself for eight years now.

Their _other_ little brother, Adam, who was still trapped in the Cage with a reportedly insane Michael.

Dean, as discreetly as he could, fisted a hand against his mouth and bit his knuckle. Hard. Not making any noise, not giving anything away. But dammit, it was all he could do to restrain himself and not trash the entire room to pieces every time a reminder came up.

"I could go to Hell," Jack offered cheerfully, wanting to be helpful. "Do you have a map?"

Now it was his turn to be looked at as if he had spurted three extra limbs.

"There are no maps to Hell, Jack," Castiel clarified for him in a fatherly tone. "Either you cross a gate to the demons' territory, or you sell your soul and get dragged down later by hellhounds."

"You know, we could really have used Crowley's help for this," Sam admitted, quite annoyed. "Bastard as he was, he knew how to teamplay."

"That he did," Dean nodded, reminiscing. "You know, there was this time when we met Dad's old friend Tara, and Crowley brought..."

He suddenly stopped, eyes wide open, like he just realized something.

"Dean, what's the matter?" Castiel asked, worried.

"Holy shit," he mumbled. "I... I might have an idea. It's a long shot, an _extremely_ long shot, but..."

"Ok, stop building up the tension and just tell us, jerk."

"Crowley, Sam! We were trying to locate the First Blade. Tara had found this spell to do it, but was never able to because she lacked the last ingredient, kraken... something. That son-of-a-witch said he had a ton in a safe box in Belize and he brought it, just like that! And I know the sleazy rat had vaults like that all around the world."

"Ahhh... yeah, I'm not really following your point, Dean."

"I do," Castiel intervened, serious. "Anything from a kraken is extreme rare. If Crowley had such an ingredient, and enough of it to easily part with it, it is possible that many other unusual things are kept in those vaults. Perhaps even one of those that we need."

"As I said, it's a long shot. But at least it's s start."

"That's great and all, but..." Jessica hesitated, regretting to pinpoint the obvious hole in the plan. "Do you even know where exactly are the vaults?"

"No, I don't. But we were able to find the Angel Tablet that was hidden in one of also many Lucifer's crypts when that bitch Meg told us. We know the pattern, so we know what to look for."

"Locating and raiding these vaults, or crypts, or whatever... will take us a lot of time, Dean," Sam sighed, abated. "Time that we might not have. And I think the idea is good, really, but if you want to give it a try, we'll need help."

"What's with you always wanting to drag more people into our messes?" Dean protested angrily. "First you want to rush head first into an apocalyptic world, and now this?"

"I wasn't talking about _people_ this time, Dean, geez! I meant angels. They're knowledgeable, and strong, and resourceful... and more important, many. They'll have a better chance at finding these vaults than us."

"Oh, really," Dean retorted, sceptic. "Please do tell me, how many burglar angels have you met? Who do you know that will be able to find all this holes in the earth and dig up the treasures?"

The Winchesters were more than willing to keep arguing for a while, despite the spectators, and they would have done so if Dean's last rhetoric questions hadn't made Castiel's face light up with an idea. The hunter saw it, but almost as fast as it had appeared, the light died again.

"What?" Dean asked the seraph, raising a hand in air to stop his brother's talking.

"It... it is nothing," Castiel said, shaking his head mournfully. "I thought of someone, but it is useless anyway."

"You don't know that, Cas. Maybe it isn't."

"Yes, I do, Dean."

"C'mon, just tell us."

"Balthazar, alright?!" the remorseful angel snapped. "Balthazar was brave and witty enough to fake his own death, sneak into Heaven's Armory unnoticed, and steal several artifacts basically under the nose of its keeper, Virgil. If there was ever an angel capable to locate all these vaults and crypts, I am confident that was Balthazar. Do you understand now why I knew it was useless?"

Dean shut his mouth, not sure what to say to apologize, but before he could even try, Castiel stormed out of the room in a frenzy. The silence that followed his departure was full of pity.

"Who is Balthazar?" Jack asked, confused by the emotional display.

"Balthazar was an angel," Sam answered him. "They were, uh... garrison teammates, I guess. He also was probably Cas' only real winged friend."

"What happened to him? Where is he?"

"He... he's dead, Jack."

Upon hearing that, the nephilim's face turned forlorn. After hesitating a moment, he stood up and followed his father figure out of the room.

"Well, that went peachy," Dean sighed, frustrated at himself.

His phone started ringing and vibrating then. Dean took it out of his pocket and looked at the familiar number. At any other time, he would have been happy to receive a call from it, but his mood had turned sour due to his clash with his angel.

"Hey, Jody. What's up?"

Sam and Jessica looked at him, wanting to hear whatever news Jody had to tell, but instead of putting the sheriff on the speaker, Dean froze.

"Jody, listen to me. Whoever is that girl that showed up bloody at your door... she can't be Kaia."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jack followed the trail of Castiel's aura outside the bunker, where he found him sitting on the railing just above the door. It was a sunny day, which contrasted with the dejected mood of the angel.

"I needed a minute out," he spoke. "But Dean and Sam's idea is not bad. I will go to the playground and plead Heaven again for help. I do not have great expectations about their collaboration, though, considering how that unfolded last time."

"Sam told me that Balthazar was your friend, and that he died," the boy said with sorrow.

"It is not only that, Jack," Castiel lamented. "Balthazar did not simply die. I... I was the one who killed him."

"You did?" Jack frowned in confusion. "But why? Wasn't he your friend?"

"He was. The best I had in the entire Heaven, or... possibly the only real one." Castiel intertwined his fingers and rested his chin on them, pensive. "But this happened after the Apocalypse had been barely averted. Not everyone was happy about it, specially the archangel Raphael. He wanted to start it again and bring it to completion. Back then, I was desperate for a way to stop him, and... I made several regrettable choices that still haunt me nowadays."

"What happened?" Jack asked, sitting down next him on the railing, his feet dangling in the air.

"I worked with Crowley... the King of Hell, in order to find and open Purgatory. Up until then, Balthazar had been helping me to distract Raphael and gain more power through human souls, but when he learned what I intended to do with Purgatory he betrayed me to Dean and Sam. And I believe, I _know_ , that he did it out of concern for me, but at that time I was already under so much pressure that... I could not stand it. Balthazar had become a liability, and I had to dispose of it."

His voice sounded broken by grief. Closing his eyes, Castiel hid his face in his hands and breathed deeply. Jack raised a hand to the seraph's back and started to rub in a comforting manner.

"When I went mad, Jack, I did many bad things. I annihilated hundreds of my brethren that wanted to go against me, but none of them... none of them I regret as much as I regret Balthazar's death."

Jack could feel the pain that was shaking the angel's heart. The heavy emotional turmoil was flowing from Castiel in waves, perfectly clear as the light of day. It hurt Jack's senses like the cut of a knife and he didn't know how to stop it, but... in TV, everyone seemed to feel better after embracing each other. So he did that, scooted closer to Castiel and wrapped his arms around him, resting his head on the shoulder.

"Balthazar," Jack called, his eyes inadvertently glowing gold, hugging the angel tight. "If he was really that good of a friend, he would understand. I don't think he'd hold a grudge against you, Castiel."

Castiel didn't answer, and simply hugged his son back. That was a comforting thought, but the truth couldn't be avoided forever. How could he expect Balthazar to ever forgive him, when he himself was incapable?

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Again in that place that was no place, where time was eternal because it didn't exist and nothingness echoed across the infinite void... an annoyed voice could be heard whining worse than a toddler.

"Oh damn no," it denied, infuriated. "I'm not going through this again. Scram out of here right now, Smart Guy nº2!"

The poor being that had just been awaken, before he could even utter a word, was gripped tightly by the nape and thrown back into existence. When the interdimensional dizziness evaporated from his senses and he was able to open his eyes, the first thing he recognized was a very tall and luxurious modern building of a kinda strange shape, situated in a small artificial island.

"Burj Al Arab," he chuckled, somehow impressed. "Okay, not starting bad for a comeback, darling."

* * *

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_

 **In case anyone wants to know what other characters will (eventually) appear even if just for a single scene, here's an alphabetical list** :

Adam Milligan, Alex Jones, Atropos, Bela Talbot, Ben Braeden, Benny Lafitte, Chuck Shurley, Claire Novak, Cole Trenton, Daphne Allen, Donna Hanscum, Emma, Frank Devereaux, Gabriel, Garth Fitzgerald, Goldie Schmidtlapp, Jacob Pond, Jesse Turner, Jody Mills, John Winchester, Julia Wright, Kali, Kevin Tran, Lily Sunder, Lydia, Madeline, Mary Winchester, Meg Masters, Michael, Naomi, Nick, Patience Turner, and Victor Henriksen.


	14. Chapter 13

_Some Destiel fluffiness ahead, read at your own risk! ^o^_

* * *

 **Chapter 13**

Castiel stepped out of the sandbox, deeply affected and overwhelmed by the latest news from Heaven. Not only his former tormentor was mostly well and alive, but his kin was on the verge of disappearing. Angels were going extinct, and without them Heaven would crumble, unleashing a cataclysm of biblical proportions upon Earth and humankind. So, even if Team Free Will found a way to stop AltMichael from invading them, another crisis was already pending over their heads.

"If you find Lucifer's crypts and anything of value in them," Naomi was saying, "I know you'll try to do what's best, Castiel."

"And if I don't?"

"We'll do our duty and keep things running."

"For how long?"

"Haa, that's the scary part," she sighed, worried and unsure.

Seeing Naomi now, and comparing her to what she used to be, Castiel couldn't help but feel both saddened and concerned. In the past she had committed crimes and mistakes, but no more than he had too. While the seraph had always tried to help humanity, Naomi had done what she considered best for Heaven. It had only been on the eve of a catastrophe that they had finally understood that both things should have gone hand in hand.

"We will find a way to fix this," Castiel attempted to reassure her. "We will."

"This may be one of those things that can't be fixed."

"This is Heaven we are talking about," he murmured earnestly.

"Everything ends, Castiel," Naomi lectured him, resigned to the worst possibility. "But until then, the gates of Heaven are closed."

They nodded in farewell. Naomi stepped back into the sigil drawn in the sand, and after a whirlwind of dust and white light, she disappeared. The sigil vanished, the gate closed. Castiel crouched down and brushed a handful of sand between his fingers, missing the angelic feeling that it had housed barely a minute ago.

A rustle behind him alerted the angel. Normally he would have paid it no mind, he was in a playground after all, and children were expected to make noise. No, it was the _type_ of noise that made him react immediately, turning around blade in hand: the flapping sound of wings. And as far as Castiel knew, all the few remaining angels had been called back to Heaven, even the gate guardian. Not that it really mattered, because even if one of them had stayed, their wings were burned and not usable for flight. Hence why the flapping sound had set Castiel off.

But when he looked at the person in front of him, barely a few metres away, he couldn't believe his eyes.

"It is not possible," he spoke, petrified. "Balthazar?"

"Yes, the one and only, darling," the rogue angel greeted. "I'd say _Surprise!,_ if not for the fact that I'm the first surprised here."

Castiel continued to look at his friend, awed, and slowly walking a few steps towards him; Balthazar instantly walked them apart again, hands raised in defense. The dark-haired angel realized then that he still had his weapon out, which didn't come out as an amiable approach, and willed it back up his sleeve.

"My apologies," he whispered, contrite. "I... I mean no harm to you, Balthazar. I was merely unsure if you were really... _you_."

"I am me as much as I can be," Balthazar answered, cautious. "But considering the facts that happened during our last meeting, I won't simply assume that my reappearance is at all welcome."

"You are wrong," Castiel replied, advancing again, and this time his revived fellow remained in place. "You cannot believe the joy that brings me seeing you again, Balthazar. But I am disconcerted, how are you alive?"

"Well, that's a good question that I'd like to have answered as much as you, but... I know nothing."

"Maybe Jack did it again when we were talking about you," Castiel hypothesized, more to himself than to the other angel.

"Who?"

Now, being finally face to face, Castiel couldn't resist the emotional impulse anymore and strongly hugged his friend. Balthazar was taken aback for a second, not fully understanding what he was doing, until it got to him and awkwardly hugged him back.

"Wow, Cas. If you were going to miss me this much, you shouldn't have killed me in the first place!" he chuckled.

"I knew that even before your eyes closed, Balthazar," Castiel confessed, his voice full of remorse, finally letting him go. "And I regretted doing it since the very moment I saw your wings singed into the floor. Welcome back, brother."

"Speaking of wings, what the heck happened to yours?" Balthazar asked, grimacing at the poor state of his friend's flying appendages.

"Many awful things have happened since you died, Balthazar." Castiel's eyes diverted from his, ashamed and feeling guilty. "It would take a considerable amount of time to explain all of them, so if you allow me, I will share my memories directly with you."

"Sure, go ahead."

Castiel then tapped Balthazar's forehead with his fingers, and in a couple of seconds, all the information pertaining to the events of the last years were shared between them.

"Oh my, what a ride this was," Balthazar whistled. "I didn't even know Metatron was still alive! And to think I missed such a party... Not that I'm actually envious, mind you."

"I guess you are not," the seraph accepted. "How did you get here, by the way?"

"That Cosmic Entity or whatever you chatted with? It made me show up in Dubai. I spent a couple of days in the hotel and then flew to the States."

"You are lucky about that, Balthazar. As you now know, you are the only remaining angel capable of flight. The rest of us... our wings burned during the Fall."

"Yeah, about that... I may be able to fly, but I still feel my grace and abilities somehow diminished."

Castiel pondered about that too. Balthazar was not the only one, for he too had felt his grace growing weaker since some time already.

"I felt it too. Even my combat skills have been less than outstanding lately. I did not imagine the cause, but after talking with Naomi today, I might have an explanation. I think it is due to the meagre number of remaining angels. All of us... we used to resonate to each other, like an echo. If this situation is not fixed soon, I fear Heaven's power will not be enough to keep things from tearing apart."

Balthazar seemed disconsolate, taking in the seriousness of the situation. Sure, he had fled from home, but that didn't mean he wanted to see it disappear or his kin to be gone forever. There had to be a way to save them!

"What are you going to do, Castiel?" he asked his friend. "Shouldn't you go back home and help maintaining it for as long as possible?"

"There is nothing for me to do in Heaven. I cannot help up there, but we might have a chance down here. However, you should return."

"You kidding me," Balthazar laughed humourlessly. "I ran away for a reason, Cas. I wanted no part in the family melodrama. Just like you, I guess."

"I did not run away," Castiel retorted, somehow irked. "I made a choice, which is different. And while I wish no ill fate to our brethren, among my human family is where I have been the happiest, despite my many mistakes."

The silver-eyed angel thought about it for a moment, considering his options. The idea of war against a deranged archangel from another world wasn't appealing to him, but on the other hand, he really liked it here. He didn't want to see Earth destroyed right when he was back in the game. And if things got a turn for the worse... well, he could always go back to Heaven, even on the prospect of facing imprisonment for his mischiefs. Still having his wings, it wasn't like he needed any gate to cross upstairs.

"Okay, darling, then it's decided," he smiled smugly. "Do you mind if I hitch a ride with you to that secret bunker? I bet the Winchesters are going to be delighted to be in my company again."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

When the angels finally arrived at the bunker, Balthazar (who was complaining the whole trip and swearing that he was never going to get in a car ever again) discovered he wasn't the only sudden guest, judging by the surprise painted in his brother's face.

"Rowena?" Castiel spoke, tilting his head.

"BALTHAZAR?!" the Winchesters shouted in response.

For a moment everyone stood still, looking at each other speechless. Then Jessica, who barely a few minutes ago had served a warm cup of tea to a kinda devastated witch, thought it to be a good ice-breaker to also offer something to the newcomer.

"Balthazar, is it?" she asked, smiling politely. "I'm Jessica, Sam's resurrected fiancée. We have coffee, tea, lemonade and water. What would you like?"

"I'm usually more of a Bourbon guy, missy, but today I'll settle for coffee. Much obliged."

She arched an eyebrow at the comment, but didn't reply anything and went to the kitchen to fetch another mug.

"Ok, what the hell is happening here?" Dean lost no time getting to the point. "How are you alive again?"

"Oh, don't act like you're not thrilled to see good ol' me again. I never took you for a shy one."

If looks could kill, Balthazar's miraculous resurrection would have been reverted right then and there.

"It's not that we're not happy for you, Balthazar," Sam tried to keep things calm. "We're just... very surprised, to say the least."

"Well, you're not the only one, that I assure you."

"I think it is possible that Jack did it," Castiel proposed. "Same as how he woke me up in the Empty, he did it again with Balthazar."

"Me?" Jack frowned, confused.

"Yes, Jack. Did you feel anything out of the ordinary when we were talking about him?"

"I don't know. I saw your guilt, your anger... Your sorrow was deep and hurtful, similar to how Dean's grief about you was before. I wanted to take it away, but I didn't know how. I thought I had only hugged you, but maybe something else happened then."

"Well, whatever you did, thank you, kid!" Balthazar smiled charmingly, slapping friendly the nephilim's shoulder.

"You're welcome," Jack grinned back, glad to have done something nice for his father.

"And who is the dangerous beauty on the other side of the table, if I may ask?"

Rowena took the hint and smirked, flattered. She was about to introduce herself when Jessica returned from the kitchen, a hot coffee mug in her hand that she put in front of the new angel.

"Rowena MacLeod, proud Scottish witch," she spoke in a silky voice. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Before Balthazar could take the mug, Dean moved faster behind him and took it out of his reach, instead handing him a small iron knife that he usually kept hidden in his ankle. The angel squinted at him, somehow offended, but took it anyway. No reaction.

"Convinced now?"

"Not yet," the hunter snorted, but he gave back the mug.

"So, Rowena," Balthazar tried to start a conversation. "You wouldn't be _that_ Rowena, right? The one who caused an uproar in the Coven?"

"Oh, I am," she answered coquettishly. "But I'm afraid you'll have to be a little more specific. I caused quite a few uproars back in the good days."

The angel intended to do so, bringing the hot beverage to his mouth, but the next thing to come out of it weren't words but said beverage. Coughing and sputtering, he spat a full sip in a very ungentlemanly way.

"So you're a demon," Dean said, drawing his gun.

"I'm not a demon, for Christ's sake! What are you...? Wait," Balthazar looked annoyed at the Winchester, understanding. "Did you put salt in the coffee?"

"Yeah, I did. And you reacted just like expected."

"It was a hot coffee, you moron!" The angel took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his mouth. "Anyone would have spat it, demon or not!"

Dean grunted in response and didn't apologize, putting away his gun, but the rest of the audience found the situation kinda funny, and soon the sound of laughing filled the library.

"I'll bring you a new unadulterated coffee, Balthazar," Jessica offered, taking the mug.

"Thank you, missy. And you," the angel pointed at Rowena, "have just lost all my sympathies, Reddie. You're opposite to me in a direct line. There's no way you didn't see what this brat was doing, and still you said nothing."

"Oh, Balthazar," the witch shook her head, sipping her tea. "Right now, a good laugh is what I needed the most. I'm sorry it had to be at your expense, but don't take it personally."

"Speaking of which," Castiel inquired. "How is it you are here, Rowena?"

"Well, to say it delicately, I wasn't playing nice with Death and her reapers. So of course, Chip and Dale had to step in and make sure I behaved. This means that I'm with the team to stop AltMichael for the time being, as short as that might be."

"What about you, Balthazar?" Sam asked, worried. "Are you with us? I'm not going to sugarcoat it. We're kind of in a tight spot, and... we could use some help, wherever it comes from."

The silver-eyed angel pondered the question, not making light of the situation.

"The last time I was 'with you', I ended up dead," he said with a slight tinge of accusation in his voice. "And while I'm not one to dwell in the past, I'd certainly like to remain alive this time. Meaning, I'm not refusing to help, but I'll only do field work. Don't count me in for any battle, specially against AltMichael. Are we clear?"

"Neither against the shedim?"

"The what?!" both Castiel and Rowena exclaimed, alarmed.

"What's a shedim?" Jessica asked, just returning with a new coffee for Balthazar.

"It's a, hum..." Jack mumbled sheepishly. "A kind of creature I somehow accidentally released from Hell."

"Oh, Jack..." Castiel sighed deeply, rubbing a hand on his face. "When did this happen? And why none of you have informed me before?"

"You mean to tell me that one of those abominations is running around free?!" Rowena shrieked.

"Hey, this happened when you were still dead, Cas," Dean explained. "And with everything that has been happening lately, it's not like we had any time to cool down and share stories around a campfire."

"Rowena, did you know about them?" Sam asked, curious.

"Even if she does, I bet she doesn't know half of it," Balthazar opined, tasting his coffee, this time free of salt. "And no, I'm not fighting that thing either, thank you very much."

"Ok, guys, just quit it with the suspense and someone answer the question, please!" Jessica insisted.

"The shedim," Castiel started, concern and dread painting his voice, "are a type of beasts that God created after making us, angels. You all know that we were designed to be faithful, mindless soldiers. However, the shedim were his first attempt of free will. They were a... raw project, to say it kindly. Full of potential but without restrains. No obedience, no feelings, no emotions... only sheer freedom."

"The Purgatory was already inhabited by leviathans, so this failure of his was banished to a secluded, inaccessible part of Hell," Balthazar continued. "I never understood why he didn't simply erase and start anew. Which one of them got released?"

"Uh, Legion. He... or she... whatever, name's Legion," Dean answered. "We thought it was a demon."

"No, shedim are not demons. But they feed on them," Castiel corrected. "Legion... Do you even have a clue where it may be now?"

Dean looked intently at his little brother.

"Not sure yet, but we might. Jody called, and... apparently Kaia, or someone wearing the girl's face, showed up at her door."

"Yeah, we were going to check it up, but we got sidetracked by Rowena," Sam added. "But now that this has been dealt with, we really should go asap. By the way, Balthazar aside, how it went upstairs, Cas? Will the other angels help us?"

Castiel looked at the hunters, his gaze full of sorrow, and proceeded to explain the situation in Heaven to all the present people. The news about Naomi's return were not taken lightly, and the angel had to assure them several times that she posed no threat, not only because of the current circumstances but also due to her own change of heart.

"They wanted to help, but they cannot leave. We... there are not enough of us anymore. They are actually counting on me to find anything of value in Crowley's vaults and Lucifer's crypts."

"I'm so sorry, Cas," Jessica mourned, taking his hand in a comforting gesture.

"This is just fucking great," Dean cussed. "As if AltMichael wasn't enough, we also have a Terminator spawn on the loose and an impending angelic extinction. Man, we're so screwed that I so need a beer. No, even better: Sammy, go open the whiskey."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

After showering and getting ready for bed, Dean was about to return to his bedroom when he passed along Castiel's. The door was almost closed, only a small crack open, but it was enough for the light coming out the bedroom to allow the hunter see his angel. He was sitting on the bed, facing the wall, shoulders hunched and hands fisted over his knees.

He was the living description of desolation.

"Hey, Cas," Dean greeted softly, entering the room. "You okay?"

"Hello, Dean. Yes, I... I guess I am okay."

"Sure," he snorted. "As if we don't know how much of a lie that is."

Castiel looked down, in both senses, and Dean raked his brain thinking of something, anything that could help cheer him up. It wasn't easy, because he knew that the sensitive angel wouldn't react to just some stupid joke that Dean blurted out of the blue. Whatever the Winchester was going to do, it had to be meaningful, and sensitive meaningful stuff wasn't exactly his forte.

"Listen, Cas..." Dean spoke in a low voice, also clearing his throat. "Do you... only if you want, of course, but... I'm going to sleep, so I was thinking... maybe you could come and... I don't know, watch over me or something?"

Dean stopped then, internally swearing at himself for his ridiculous stuttering and the blush he was feeling on his cheeks. He was an adult man, dammit! And this was his... his something-a-lot-more-than-a-friend. There was no reason for blushing.

"Dean," Castiel called him, not getting up but a little kind smile on his mouth. "I appreciate your attempt at comforting me, but you have always found my watching 'creepy'. I do not want to make you uncomfortable for my own sake."

"That's not... Okay, maybe it was like that before, when I didn't know why you were doing it, but it's different now. It doesn't bother me anymore, like I got used to it or something. So if you want to come with me and do your ex-creepy thing while I sleep, I don't mind."

This time Castiel stood up and walked closer to Dean, looking intensely at him with that kind of gaze that never failed to make the hunter shiver, like the angel was trying to decipher the truth of his last statement.

"That is a generous offer, Dean, and I certainly would enjoy very much to keep you company over the night. But I must ask, is this offering only for tonight, or is it to remain from now onwards?"

Dean licked his lips, fidgeting in the spot, suddenly nervous for no damn reason at all. The little motion of his tongue didn't go unnoticed by the angel.

"You... you can stay the night whenever you want, Cas. Just let me know you're there, ok? Don't go invisible mode or any of that crap."

"Alright, Dean. Thank you."

"Yeah, right."

And because the situation was reaching absurd levels of awkwardness, Dean took it upon himself to get the thing rolling. Not thinking twice, he grabbed the seraph's hand and guided him towards his own bedroom, feeling a somewhat mushy sensation in the pit of his stomach when Castiel responded squeezing his hand.

Dean and Cas, holding hands. Who would have believed it possible?

"Lose the trenchcoat and suit jacket," Dean told him after closing the door. "You'll feel better over the blanket without them."

"Over the blanket?" Castiel repeated, confused for a second. "Oh, you mean... you intended for me to lay down beside you?"

"Yeah, obviously. Why, is that a problem?"

"No, not a problem, Dean. Just... that your bed is single. There is little space, and if we share it you will not be comfortable."

Dean looked at the bed, measuring it with his eyes. The angel was right, it was too small for the two of them, unless...

"Well, then we... we'll have to..." he sighed, frustrated for being stammering again. "We just have to keep close to each other so nobody falls off the bed, right?"

"Does that mean you want us to cuddle, Dean?"

The Winchester looked away, partly embarrassed for the use of such a word and partly for the clear, hopeful note in Castiel's voice.

"Just... just get in bed already, Cas," he grumbled, placing himself under the sheets.

Castiel discarded the instructed pieces of clothing, hanging them orderly on the door, and took his place beside his human, facing him. The space in the mattress was really limited, but the hunter didn't complain when he snuggled closer after turning off the lamp.

"This makes me very happy, Dean. Thank you," he whispered in the dark.

"You're welcome, Cas. As long as you're ok with it."

"I am."

Dean had intended to close his eyes and fall asleep, but after a while, the little light that filtered through the grid in the door allowed him to perceive Castiel's face. The high cheeks, the firm nose, the stubbled jaw, the tempting mouth... and those very blue eyes looking straight at him. Without thinking, Dean moved his head forward, so their lips brushed together. Sensing no rejection, he pushed with a bit more force, properly kissing the angel.

"Dean..." Castiel moaned.

Encouraged, the hunter cupped Castiel's face with a hand, like he was getting used to do, and guided him through the kiss. Their tongues rubbed against each other for a while, intimately, delicately, without rush. And probably Dean would have denied it, but not all the moans came out of the angel's throat.

"So, how was it? Not bad for a little make out session, right?"

"Dean, do not be boastful," Castiel chuckled.

"I'm not!" Dean feigned offense. "I'm just confident about my skills."

"Your skills very much deserve the confidence."

The man smiled, happy to hear that. But then, a small nagging doubt crossed his mind.

"Cas, you can do that too, you know? Kiss me."

"Dean..." Castiel's smile dropped a bit. "Please, believe me when I say that I would be thrilled to do so, but... you understand there is a reason why I do not, right? Why I let you take all the steps in this development?"

"No, Cas," Dean retorted, frowning. "You're allowed to try things too, whenever you want. Why wouldn't you?"

"Because Dean, I know you are not comfortable with displays of affection unless under very severe circumstances, barely short of death. If I hugged you or kissed you every time I wanted, I am afraid you would never leave my arms. And that would surely be bothersome and impractical for a hunter."

Dean mentally thanked the dark, for it hid his very flushed cheeks.

"Whoa, I didn't picture you like the clinging type, Cas," he tried to joke.

"I have been 'clinging' on you for nine years now, Dean. I thought I made my statement very clear."

"Ok, sure, whatever," Dean whispered, annoyed by the fluttering sensation in his heart. "Then right now, what do you want to do?"

"Right now?" Castiel didn't even need to think about it. "I would like to make out a bit more."

* * *

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	15. Chapter 14

_From now onwards, characters will come and go. Not everyone is for staying_ _._

* * *

 **Chapter 14**

When morning came, the Winchesters got in the move pretty early to go visit Jody and find out what was happening with that not-Kaia girl. Balthazar had already taken back Rowena to wherever she wanted, promising to pick her up again when they would need her help, and announced his intention to claim back the reins of his vessel's life. It would probably be a while until they heard from the rogue angel again, but considering he could be contacted via angel radio at any given time and fly to them instantly, Castiel wasn't all that worried. He was actually more concerned about the fact that Dean was going to face some unidentified monster (that Jody had insisted was not your usual shapeshifter) wearing the dreamwalker's face.

"Dean, are you sure you do not want me to go with you?" he asked in the war room, while the brothers revised they had all their weapons and gear ready. "I could be of assistance against this creature, whatever it is."

"I know, Cas, but Jody said she was wounded and weak. Hasn't even gotten out of bed," Dean answered, closing his duffel. "We can deal with it, but we also need something against Legion and AltMichael. So, while Thaz accepted to help us and search for the vaults, we still could find something useful here in the bunker. And most likely, you'll be better at recognizing any strange stuff than us."

"Alright, I will inspect every single item that the Men of Letters stored if necessary," Castiel promised. "Tell Jody and Claire I send my regards. But please be careful, Dean. And take care of Jack and yourselves."

"Listen to the angel," Jessica added, almost hanging from Sam's neck. "We're not playing Russian roulette to see which one of us is the next to bite the dust, ok?"

"Don't worry, precious," Sam smiled, pecking her repeatedly. "I'll make sure to come back in one piece."

"You better," she threatened joking, kissing him back. "While the young Sam was adorable and unbearably cute, I'm not at all dissatisfied with the current mature, sexy Sam, and I plan to make the most out of him."

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" Sam asked her. "You haven't seen Jody in months, since before Jack was born."

"No!" Jessica exclaimed, a bit too loud. "No, I mean... I'm good, really. Tell her hello from me, ok? I'll stay here and help Cas check out the library and the storage. You go and... do your hunter things, puppy."

Sam frowned lightly, suspecting the sudden apprehension of his normally adventurous fiancée, but he didn't insist. It was better for her to stay where it was safe, after all.

"Sure! We'll be back as soon as possible. I miss you already, Jess."

"Me too. I love you, Sam."

"Same, precious."

He kissed her one last time and looked at his brother, to see if Dean was ready to go. He was, duffel already on his hand, and for some reason he looked like he was growing impatient. Castiel instead had a strange expression on his face, apparently having watched with a badly concealed interest the loving farewell of the couple; he shot a rapid glance at Dean, clearly longing for something but being too shy to ask for, and looked away dejectedly. Sam had a pretty good idea what it was the angel wanted, but he didn't say anything yet. It would probably embarrass every single person in the room.

"Are we ready? Then let's go," the older hunter said, walking upstairs. "Bye, Cas. Bye, Jess."

"Bye! Remember to be careful, guys!"

"You too, Jack. Do not go on your own again. If anything happens, tell Dean, Sam or Jody."

"I will, Castiel," Jack smiled, before disappearing from sight. "Bye!"

The heavy door closed, Baby already waiting faithfully on the road. The three males entered the car, Jack taking the backseat like Castiel used to do. Dean sat behind the wheel, but before he could start the ignition, Sam commented casually:

"Cas looked a bit down, you know."

"What?" Dean stopped immediately, hand in mid-air.

"Nothing. Just saying," the younger Winchester shrugged. "I mean, Jess and I said our goodbyes..."

"I said bye to Cas."

"Yeah, I heard. Still he looked somehow sad, who knows why."

"Maybe he wanted to bathe with you?" Jack suggested, not really helping.

Dean glared at both of them, wanting to tell them to shut up and mind their own business, but this was Castiel after all. He wasn't going to ignore anything related to the angel. Experience had taught him that bad things happened when he did that.

"First of all, Cas doesn't bathe because he doesn't need it. And second, bathing together is for couples."

"Aren't you a couple?"

Silence flooded the car, so quiet that even a butterfly would have been thunderous in comparison.

"The what?" Dean finally blurted.

"A couple is a pair of two similar items that combine together in some way," Jack explained his point of view. "You and Castiel are two, and you're best friends. You fight and hang out together. Doesn't that make you a couple and available to bathe together?"

"What has gotten into you with the bathing?" the hunter chose the less dangerous topic.

"So, are we going to Jody's today or what?" Sam commented like he didn't care about the situation, looking out the window.

That earned him another glare from his older brother, but he didn't mind, because then Dean grunted something under his breath and got out of the car, walking back to the door.

Dean descended the stairs, looking around to see if the angel was still near. He was, just coming out the kitchen holding a tray with two steaming cups of coffee, surely for him and Jessica.

"Dean?" Castiel tilted his head, surprised. "What is the matter? Did you forget anything?"

"Yeah, kinda."

He fidgeted on the spot for a second, before squaring his shoulders and advancing confidently. Not stopping to second-think, Dean came in front of the seraph and cupped his face with both hands, pressing their mouths together in a smouldering kiss. Castiel gasped, taken by surprise, but returned the hunter's kiss fervently. He lamented having his hands occupied with the tray, not being able to also touch Dean.

"Ok, this was all. I'm really going now," the hunter said after the kiss ended.

"I see. Have a safe trip, Dean."

"Bye, Cas."

This time, when the bunker door closed behind him, Dean departed with the memory of a bright smile upon the lips he had just tasted.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sheriff Jody Mills from Sioux Falls was always happy to see the Winchester brothers again, despite the fact that their presence more times than not meant trouble. It was no different if this time she had been the one to actually call them. When she opened her door and saw them, the tense look on her face relaxed visibly.

"Sam, Dean! Welcome back, boys," she greeted them with a hug. "I'm glad to see you safe and sound for once."

"A change is good from time to time," Sam chuckled. "Jess and Cas say hello."

"How are you doing, Jack? Learned anything new lately?" she hugged the nephilim too.

"I'm fine," he grinned. "And I'm being good too. Dean bought me a box of Lego and taught me how to play with it. But there are never enough pieces to properly finish a roof."

"Yeah, a very interesting story," Dean coughed lightly, embarrassed. "Are you and the girls ok, Jody? Where's the thing?"

"Yes, we're good. Kaia... I mean, Kaia-alike is upstairs," she said, heading there. "I have her handcuffed to Claire's bed, but so far she hasn't made any attempt to break free. She seems... I'm not sure how to say it, comfortable being here?"

"I don't think Claire is too happy with this," Dean commented.

"Claire doesn't know yet," Jody sighed, worried. "She was hunting when this doppelganger showed up at my doorstep, but she was near. I called her to come back as soon as she finished, but didn't tell her why. She's about to arrive, but I'm actually relieved that you're here first. Maybe this way I'll actually have something to tell Claire."

They reached the bedroom and Jody opened the door. The room was poorly lit, with the blinds down more than a half, and a flexo on the desk as the only light source. The semi-darkness only made it easier to notice the strange green, flowing glow that washed over the inert body on the bed. The robe she wore was torn and bloody in some parts, but some kind of herbal cataplasm covered her wounds.

"Just what the hell is that?" Dean whispered, thunderstruck.

"Is she asleep?" Sam asked Jody, getting closer cautiously.

"No, not really. I think she's conscious, but in a state similar to suspended animation. When she came here, she didn't fight at all. She just fainted, no fear at all, like she was sure that no harm would be done to her. In the four days that she has been here, she hasn't asked for anything to sustain herself, not even water. Though I have left a glass on the nightstand just in case."

"Why is she shining green?" Jack was curious.

"I don't know." Jody crossed her arms in a defeated gesture. "Alex took care of her wounds the first day, but medicines weren't working. The second day it's the only time she spoke at all, and... asked for saxifrages, nothing else."

"What's that?"

"It's a flower. A plant actually, she asked for the whole plant. I had to go to a vivarium to find one. Then she ate the flower, and I mean it exactly like that, she munched the flower raw. Then told me to boil the roots in an infusion for her to drink, and grind the leaves in a paste to cover her wounds."

"Is it working?"

"Yes. As far as we can tell, she's healing."

Jody came closer to the bed and turned on the bedside lamp, completely illuminating the girl. Both hunters gasped in shock, not only for seeing an exact copy of the young dreamwalker that had helped to save them, but also for the clothes she was wearing. Jack tilted his head in confusion in a very Cas-like fashion.

"Jody," Dean said quietly, "this isn't Kaia. This is actually the thing that killed her. Whatever her face is, this... this tunic is the same one as its."

The sheriff covered her mouth with a hand, willing herself not to shout in disbelief. This was getting more complicated by the moment, and Claire wasn't even here yet.

"Is she really?" another voice was heard.

Everyone turned to the door, where a girl stood there holding some books in her arms and a school bag still on her shoulder.

"Patience, you're early from the library," Jody greeted her with a smile. "Are you hungry? There's still pasta from lunch."

"Hey, kid. You doing good?" Dean asked, while Sam and Jack raised their hands in hello.

"Yes, thank you. Jody and Alex have been very nice. Claire is a bit rough around the edges, but eventually she grows on you," she answered sincerely. "Are you sure this is not Kaia?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Sam nodded. "Why? What makes you think she is?"

"Since I accepted this... this gift I inherited from my grandmother, it has been easier to understand. When she appeared," Patience looked at the supposed assassin, "and I touched her hand, I sensed Kaia. I know you're a lot more experienced with this kind of things than me, but I want to trust my psychic abilities, and they're telling me that she _is_ Kaia."

"I agree with you," Jack nodded. "I don't understand it myself, but while this isn't Kaia, she still is."

The psychic nodded, a bit wary of the strange waves she was receiving from the other teenager. But having said her part, Patience left to keep studying in the bedroom she now shared with Alex, since very obviously Claire hadn't been thrilled with the same idea, no matter how long she could leave for between huntings. The three adults kept quiet for a minute, considering what the psychic and the half-angel had told them, but before they could start discussing it the door downstairs slammed, announcing another arrival.

"Jody, are you at home?" a strong feminine voice called, some worry in it. "Is everyone alright?"

The grown-ups and Jack went down to meet the fierce youngster. Some awkward but honest hugs were exchanged. Dean commented on the newest graze in the blonde's face, which she responded complimenting his inexistent grey hairs.

"And you are?" Claire asked, looking at Jack with distrust.

"I'm Jack," he smiled way too happily, given the situation. "Nice to meet you."

"Jack," she repeated, almost snarling. "Same Jack that got Kaia into the mess?"

"Claire, someone has appeared at our house." Recognizing the signs of an imminent fight and wanting to avoid it, Jody got right to the point. "We're still trying to understand what has happened, so please, don't jump to conclusions."

"Okay, I'll try. What's the matter?"

"I'm the matter," someone else said.

Five heads turned to the unexpected voice, and just there at the foot of the stairs, was standing Kaia's doppelganger, not glowing green anymore. Claire's eyes opened wide, not believing what she was seeing.

"Kaia?" she whispered.

She intended to take a step forward, but Dean grabbed her by the arm.

"She's not Kaia Nieves," he warned her. "Patience and Jack seem to believe so, but we don't. Remember, Claire. Kaia is dead, and she was killed by someone wearing that same robe and hood."

The young huntress observed Kaia from head to toe, taking in all the similarities, but also the evidence for Dean's doubt. The torn clothes were certainly identical to Kaia's murderer, but also the face and complexion were an exact copy of the dreamwalker's.

"Were you awake the entire time?" Jody asked to her unexpected guest. "And also, you were handcuffed."

"I was, as you very well explained to these men. But I put myself in trance to slow down my metabolism and allow me time to heal." She then held out a hand, offering back the useless handcuffs. "And these bracelets aren't enough to restrain me."

"Are you Kaia?" Claire shouted, furious to see someone wearing her deceased friend's face. "Or are you her killer? Why did you kill her?"

"I am Kaia. I'm actually _more_ Kaia than she could ever have been, for I'm complete now," the girl answered, coming closer to the huntress without a pinch of fear. "I didn't intend to kill her. It was an accident, since I actually aimed my spear at you. Anyway how it happened, Kaia was the last of my pieces. We were always destined to meet and join again."

Claire stepped back, not wanting to be anywhere near this fake Kaia, and unconsciously taking refuge next to the hunters. Kaia saw this and smiled sadly, but didn't attempt closeness again.

"You were my friend, Claire. We shared our scars, and even if I was afraid, I believed you when you said that you would protect me. I followed you to the Bad Place to save Dean and Sam Winchester, because they were important to you."

"Don't you dare use her memories like they were yours, you freak," Claire spat, despise clear in her voice. "Kaia was her own person, not a lost piece of anything of what you're saying."

"I see that you're not ready to accept it yet," Kaia shook her head, disappointed, but let it be and turned her attention to Jack. "I also wanted to meet you, nephilim. You were the one who sought me, after all. Did you achieve what you intended?"

"I did, thanks to you." Contrary to the others, he didn't seem to have any problem accepting the doppelganger as the real Kaia. "But I regret that you killed yourself for it. It was never my intention for that to happen."

"Ok, cut it already with the mysterious crap," Dean butted in. "What the hell are you, young lady? How did you get here?"

"I'm Kaia, and since you all knew her, that's the only name I'm going to respond to," she answered, all of her former gentleness gone and adopting a more intimidating demeanour. "I came from the Bad Place on my own. Well, more or less. Some monsters were used as bait for the blood sacrifice, but the ritual needed it in order to open the rift."

Dean and Sam looked astonished at each other, not sure they weren't misunderstanding her words.

"Wait a second," Sam stopped her. "Are you saying that you can open rifts at will?"

"With enough blood sacrifices? Of course, but it wasn't a perfect process. Before, I could open a rift to any world that one of my pieces came from, but being there for more than a couple of minutes was toxic for me. Only now that I'm whole again I can stay indefinitely, and I chose this place."

"What happened to you?" Jody asked, her maternal instincts manifesting. "You were able to beat Dean and Sam in a fight, so I'm guessing you're a skilled fightress. Yet you showed up wounded and bloodied."

"Nobody is invincible," Kaia admitted. "I had just crossed and closed the portal when something came after me. A very complex kind of monster, very powerful. Made of pieces, just like me."

"Made of pieces?" Dean repeated, confused for a moment, until the realization dawned on him. "You don't mean the shedim, right? Was its name Legion?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. That's how it introduced itself."

"You fought the shedim alone, and made it out alive? That thing killed a damn Prince of Hell just by touch, kid!"

Kaia frowned deeply, unamused.

"You seem to forget that I also fought you and your brother quite effortlessly. And just so you know, I'm centuries older than you. My last piece was young, since I had to wait for all of them to be reborn independently, but I'm not."

"Yeah, whatever, I couldn't care less about you right now. Getting back to Legion, what happened? Where is it?"

"I'm not sure. We fought for some hours, mostly battle but also some magic. Every time I thought to have hurt it, it changed shape and started fresh, while ultimately I grew tired and couldn't keep up. So I fled and sought refuge in the only safe place I knew about in this world."

Dean sighed loudly, looking away, frustration winning him. Fuck their luck, just when they finally get a clue about the shedim, it gets lost again.

"Ok. Not that it really matters, considering it can look like anyone, but what was its visage the last time you saw Legion?" Sam asked.

"It had the body and face of a short man, chubby. Ruddy face, golden curls. Also nice teeth and bored eyes."

The conversation had died, and nobody seemed to know what else to say. Claire kept glaring at the new Kaia, barely holding in the desire to pull out her knife and stab her. Dean and Sam looked at each other, unsure of what to do next, until Jody took the matter in her own hands.

"When I met Kaia, I offered her my home," she spoke earnestly. "I received her with open arms in the same way I did with Alex, Claire and later Patience. I promised to help her in any way I could. I might not be happy about this situation, but if you're still Kaia even in the slightest, the offer stands."

"Jody!" Claire exclaimed, furious. "She killed Kaia, she's not her!"

"She keeps talking about her 'pieces' and Kaia being one of them, whatever that means," the sheriff defended her point of view. "Claire, I know this isn't easy for you, but believe me, it isn't for anyone else either. Besides, she fought with the shedim and didn't end up dead, which automatically makes her a good ally to have. So, until we gain a better understanding of what's happening, I think it's better to watch her closely rather than her being MIA."

"Much obliged, Jody," Kaia thanked her.

Fuming, Claire didn't say another word and merely stomped upstairs. A bedroom door slamming was her last sign of opinion that day.

"Well, it could have gone worse," Jody said, shrugging.

"By the way, _Kaia_ , you haven't told us yet what you really are," Sam pointed out.

The resentful way in which the hunter had pronounced her name didn't go unnoticed by the girl, but she chose to ignore it and smirked.

"I haven't. But what makes you think I'm going to?"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sam tossed and turned in the sofa in the living room, still awake, incapable of falling asleep in a sofa that was a bit too small for him to sleep in comfortably. He was missing not only his own bed in the bunker, but also the nice company he had enjoyed in it for some nights now, since Jessica had come back. Maybe Jack was right about the bathe coupling thing.

But it wasn't only that, and Sam knew it. He was too worried and restless to being able to sleep. They had way too much in their hands right now, not that it was unusual. Since years ago they always seemed to be deep drowning in some disaster or another, but this one... Every time they believed to have reached a limit, when they believed it couldn't get any weirder or more dangerous than it already was, they were proven wrong. After all, what else could you expect after alpha monsters, King and Princes of Hell, angels warring, God, the Darkness, leviathans, the Devil and the Apocalypse and everything in between?

Invaders from another world, of course. Just the next move in the game.

The hunter sighed, surrendering to the fact of a sleepless night, and got up. Walking silently not to awake his brother on the floor, Sam went to the kitchen to drink a glass of water, seeing that the light was already on. Apparently he wasn't the only one that dream was eluding tonight.

"Jack?" Sam whispered, squinting his eyes until they were ready for the light. "What's the matter, you couldn't sleep?"

"I already slept," he whispered back.

"Oh, right," the man smiled indulgently. "I keep forgetting that you don't need as many hours as the standard human. Were you bored?"

"A little. But I didn't want to bother anyone just to have something to do, so I decided to wait here until breakfast time."

"That's very considerate of you, Jack," Sam praised him before drinking his water.

"And you, Sam? Why couldn't you sleep?"

"I'm just too worried about everything. Stressed."

The Winchester sat down in front of the nephilim, tiredness evident in his every movement.

"I might be a little too," Jack admitted. "There are many things that feel wrong. What do you do in cases like this, when you feel helpless to do anything?"

"Well, some people keep trying to do their best, like we do. Others give up to desperation. And some people also pray, because they have faith in a superior being that could help them."

"Pray? You mean to God? To my grandfather?"

"Yeah, like that. But not only to God, Jack. Currently there are seven billions of people in the planet, and all of them have faith in different things. Some believe in God, some believe in other beings... and some don't believe in anything at all."

Jack pondered about this for a while.

"Do you have faith in God, Sam?" he finally asked. "Do you pray to him?"

"Well, that's a complicated issue nowadays," the hunter chuckled. "In the past, I used to pray to him. I didn't know if he existed, but yes, I prayed. However, after I met Chuck and then the angel Joshua... I mostly stopped. The moment I knew for sure that God actually existed, was also the moment I totally lost my faith in him."

"Why?"

"Because Jack, while I was ignorant, I still had hope that God cared for us, that we were important to him. I thought he listened to us, and helped us when he could. But after meeting Chuck, I saw that all my prayers were useless, because he had closed the line a long time ago. He wasn't listening anymore."

"Castiel is my father," Jack said, reflecting. "Family is important. You and Dean, and also Jess, are my family too. I lost my mother. God is my grandfather, but I never met him. Would he like me?"

"I'm sure he would, Jack."

"Perhaps he doesn't know I exist. Maybe if he knew, he would want to meet me."

Sam bit his tongue, not wanting to disappoint the young boy by telling him that most certainly Chuck knew about his existence, because God was supposed to be the three big O's: omniscient, omnipotent and omnipresent.

"How do you pray to him, Sam? What do you tell?"

"Ehm... usually you just tell him what the problem is, and ask for his help."

"Can you teach me, please?"

The man didn't really want to, but he didn't want to let Jack down either.

"You... you just have to speak, Jack. Ok, let's try it. Normally, people are reverent when they pray, but since I met Chuck in person and I know he's a quite laid back guy, I don't think he'll mind if we're more informal with him."

Jack nodded, anxious. Out of habit, Sam joined his hands in prayer and closed his eyes.

"Yeah, here we go," he whispered. "Ahem, God? Sorry, I meant Chuck. This is Sam Winchester with Jack, your grandson. He's Castiel's son, and he's a good child. Jack is helping us with the latest problems down here on Earth, which you may or may not be interested in. We have, uh... a shedim on the loose, a Heaven crumbling due to the lack of angels, and a Michael from another world set on invading us. We have our plate full, Chuck, and I know you don't like to intervene in human affairs that much, so I'm not asking you to show up, but... we don't know what to do. We're making it up as we go, walking blindly. Please, even the littlest clue would be greatly appreciated, you know? So, yeah. This was all. Thanks for listening, in case you actually were. Say hello to Amara from us. Bye."

A minute of silence followed the highly out-of-the-norm prayer, until Jack dared to talk again.

"That's how you do it?"

"That's how you do it. Now we just continue with our lives, and see if eventually something even remotely divine happens or not."

* * *

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	16. Chapter 15

_Exams happen, you know how it is.._ _._

* * *

 **Chapter 15**

After the Winchesters' and Jack's departure, things were pretty quiet in the bunker for a few days. Jessica and Castiel kept company to each other, rummaging through the tons of strange items and archives that had been catalogued, but sometimes not even the descriptions were all that helpful.

"Item #63016-SAR," Jessica read the label, holding some kind of wood object that looked like a horse brush, but the sandpaper part was made of rough metal. "What do you think this is?"

"If I am not mistaken, that is a sarotegil," the angel answered, barely looking away from his own strange item, a kris with Turkish carvings. "It is used to scrap a dragon's skin and peel off its scales."

"That doesn't sound pleasant," the woman grimaced, putting it back on the shelf. "How much it's still left to check on?"

"We have been going at a quick pace these days. I reckon we already inspected about 75% of the total."

"I'm sorry to be delaying you," Jessica said. "I know that you'll probably be much faster without me, but still you wait for me to participate. You already did half of the work on your own during the nights."

"Do not see it that way, Jess." The angel smiled gently at her. "It is lonely here without Dean... and without Sam and Jack too, of course, even if I can communicate with him via angel radio. I greatly appreciate having you here with me. You make this task not as tedious as it could have been."

Jessica smiled back, feeling a little reassured, before turning around the shelf to keep looking.

"Thanks, Cas. I'm glad to be of help, no matter how little. It... hasn't been easy since I came back."

"Is anything the matter?"

The worried tone in the angel's voice made Jessica consider if perhaps she had spoken too much without noticing. Biting her lip, she reminded herself that he was her friend, and thus she could trust him.

"I... I feel so stupid and weak confessing this, after everything I know that Sam and Dean, and you too, have gone through. But the truth is," she breathed deeply, "when I was lost in the other world, I wished so many times that it had never happened. A couple of times I even wished... God, Cas. I wished I had been left dead."

"Jessica..." Castiel called after her, turning around the shelf too.

"I feel so pathetic right now," she started to sob. "Since the beginning, I told myself that everything would be alright; that as long as I loved Sam and he loved me, that was all I needed and we could make it work again. But look at me now! I've barely escaped from my first big adventure and I'm already a mess."

The seraph didn't know what to say, so he merely (and a bit awkwardly) offered his open arms to the plaintive human. Jessica kindly accepted the consolation gesture and hugged him.

"I do not think that makes you pathetic in the slightest, Jess," Castiel comforted her, tenderly patting her back like she was a little child. "This kind of life is harsh and full of sorrow, as I told you once. There are many things to be scared of, and you must believe me when I tell you that you are not the only one. Me, Dean and Sam fear them too. Still we go off to save the world, because we think it deserves to be saved, but it does not make us fear any less."

"I know you're pretty much anonymous heroes," Jessica nodded, mumbling against Castiel's shoulder. "But I'm not sure that I'm cut to be one too. And even if I was, I certainly don't _want_ to. I... I want to have a life of my own, Cas, a life beyond all this. And that makes me feel horrible."

"Jess, that is a misguided way of thinking. There is nothing wrong with wanting a normal life. I cannot speak for myself, being an angel, but both Sam and Dean had desired to get the 'apple pie' style of life at some point or another. Sam wanted it so much that he left his family to go to college, where he met you; Dean forced himself into it after the Apocalypse was averted because he had promised it to his brother, but I know how much it broke his heart when he had to leave it behind. Jess, you are not a horrible person, and should not think about yourself like that."

Jessica sniffled for a while longer, but eventually calmed down and Castiel released her from his arms.

"Thank you, Cas. I feel better now."

"You are welcome. But have you expressed your sentiments about this matter to Sam? Surely, he will be more of help than me."

"More or less," she hesitated. "I've told him how scared I was in the other world, but I didn't want to insist that much when I was already feeling like a weakling. And before Jack was born, we talked about me going back to a college somewhere and finishing my major."

"That is a very good plan. What is restraining you to accomplish it?"

"Uh... being officially dead, for starters?"

"Naught but a petty thing for the Winchesters," Castiel smiled, confident. "Maybe someone mixed a few documents and Jessica Moore did not actually died, but recovered from her injuries in a hospital. Maybe the unfortunate victim of that fire was another, because you were not there when it happened. Maybe, since the fire destroyed everything, there were not even a victim's remains to be accounted for."

The female gaped, eyes wide open, understanding what the angel was getting at.

"That... that actually could very well happened," she admitted, hopeful. "Humans make mistakes all the time, after all. If said mistakes could be corrected..."

"Then Jessica Moore never really died. Sorry for the parents and friends that mistakenly mourned her while she was away recovering, but she is ready now to get back on track with her life."

At the mention of her parents, Jessica almost broke down crying again. Her mum, her dad... she missed them so much. Until now she hadn't dared to hope that one day she could reunite with them again, but Castiel made it sound so easy... However, what would she tell them? What excuse to make for more than a decade of absence, a decade of silence and no contact? And what about Sam?

"I don't want to leave Sam," she whispered, sadly.

"Jess, it does not have to be one thing or the other. I will not mislead you into thinking it would be simple, but it is certainly achievable if you really want it. You can stay beside Sam and share your life with him, in the same way he shares his with you. You can be part of each other's life."

"I'd like that," she chuckled. "It'd be nice to once more read a history book that's not about one supernatural thing or another. Wonderful as this library is, the Men of Letters were quite monothematic in that department."

Castiel nodded, satisfied to have been able to rise up his friend's spirit (not literally), and they got back to work.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Dean was livid. Sam's eyebrows were about to disappear in his hairline, astonished. Castiel squinted, mildly confused. Jess looked genuinely impressed. And Jack merely kept looking at the TV in the recreational room, not really understanding that something very important was happening. What was the big deal with the angel Balthazar being in the news?

 _"Mister Sebastian Roché, the eccentric French millionaire, has practically risen from the dead after being missing for almost eight years. In words of Mr. Roché, he has lived this time isolated from the world in a spiritual retirement in Tibet, which he finally feels ready to leave. Press all around the world is trying to get an interview with the elusive gentleman, but until now no further declarat-..."_

The journalist's voice was lost as the screen turned black.

"Fuck the what?" Dean yelled, throwing the remote to the recliner. "The hell is Thaz doing? Doesn't he know what discretion means? Cas!"

"What?"

"Don't you have anything to say?"

"What do you expect me to say?" the angel frowned. "I have no control over what Balthazar does or does not."

"Well, he's your friend. Tell him to get back in line!"

"Dean, he is not my soldier to command anymore, for which I am grateful, considering how bad that has always resulted. He promised to help us, but he also warned us about his intention of getting back his vessel's life, now that there will not be angels after his head for becoming a rebel. I guess this is him doing exactly that."

The older hunter snorted, pissed off and wanting to kick something. They were dealing with big issues here, and that damn rogue was just leisurely strolling around in front of the cams for the world to see.

"Hey, don't take this too far," Sam spoke. "Maybe this is his way of opening a path? Parading as a human, and with money no less, he can travel around the world and talk to people. He can get clues about the vaults we're looking for."

"Oh, please," Dean retorted, angry. "He's a freaking angel! He doesn't need money to travel, he flies. He doesn't need to talk to people for clues, when with just a touch he can get whatever info he wants from their heads. No, Sammy. He's doing this just for the fun of it!"

"Yes, Balthazar has always been... inclined to the hedonistic side of human nature," Castiel agreed.

"Call him," Dean demanded. "Call him back right now, because I'm gonna kick his ass if you're not up to it."

"I cannot call him without using my true voice, Dean, which you already know not to be a pleasant experience for human ears. If you really want to talk to him that much, either we summon him or _you_ call him."

For some reason, that instantly deflated the hunter quite a bit. He even looked taken aback.

"No way. I'm not calling him."

"Why not?"

"Because... Just because, Cas!"

"AHEM!" Sam half coughed, half chuckled. "In case you've forgotten, guys, there are more people in the room. Since very obviously Dean doesn't want to pray to _another_ angel, I'll do it."

Dean grumbled at the way that Sam had said it, which only caused Jess and Jack to join in the chuckles. He looked at them furiously, not at all amused. C'mon, the kid probably didn't even understand what was the joke!

"Now I'm praying to the angel Balthazar, hoping against hope that wherever he is, he's sober and fully clothed. This is Sam Winchester, from the MoL bunker. Balthazar, we would like to talk to you about your... recent activities in the media. So please, if you could spare us a moment of your valuable time..."

They all waited for a minute, expectantly, but nothing happened.

"Oh, right. No angel ever gives a damn when I'm the one calling for them. How could I forg-?"

Before the younger Winchester could finish his complaint, the whole bunker started to rattle. Lightly at first, but the tremor grew second after second until becoming a full-on quake.

"Wishful thinking, but maybe it's just Thaz's idea of a great entrance?"

"No, I do not detect Balthazar's presence in the vicinity."

"If this is really a earthquake, we should get closer to the exit just in case," Sam said, putting his arm around Jessica's shoulders and urging her to move. "We don't really know how much the bunker can actually resist."

Everyone seemed to agree, so they made their way through the hallways to the war room. But before they could continue to the library, where some books had already fallen to the floor, an intense light flooded through the windows from outside. It was so pure and blinding that even Castiel had to narrow his eyes a bit in order to see what was happening, while the others covered their faces.

And then everything went still again, like nothing had changed. But something had actually changed: there, in the middle of the war room, floating softly over the table, were two bright spiralling bluish bubbles.

"What the hell?" As usual, Dean was the first to recover from the initial shock. "Cas, are those...?"

"They are souls, yes." The angel sounded as much perplexed as the hunter. "And if I am not mistaken, one of them..."

"Please, guys, where are your manners?" another voice announced its presence. "First you call me back, and then you close the door on my face? What a way to make me feel unappreciated. Yet here I am, sober and clothed like you asked. Your loss, though."

The five of them turned their heads towards Balthazar, who after all had decided to grace them with his presence.

"Balthazar," Castiel spoke. "We did not close our door. Rather, said figurative door was being used by another guest. Two very sudden and unexpected guests, as you can see."

The silver-eyed angel dropped his smile, taking on a more serious visage when he saw the two floating orbs.

"Not in me to criticize anyone's taste in decoration, but this might be a little excessive for a minimalist lamp, don't you think? Where did you even get them?"

"We didn't _get_ them," Sam explained. "They have appeared right before you."

"That is how a soul looks? Really?" Jess asked, marvelled. "It's... beautiful, but also impersonal. It doesn't look like anyone."

"That's because you can't see its real shape," Jack commented.

"That is true," Castiel confirmed, getting closer to the souls. "I do not recognize the other, but this one... (sigh). Brace yourselves. You are in for a big surprise."

The seraph cupped his hands and took one of the souls. Then he whispered a litany in Enochian, and soon enough the bluish orb started to take a more defined, less bright shape. When the spiralling light ceased, it was like another person had joined them in the bunker once again. However, it was about _who_ specifically this soul belonged to what made all of the humans breathe deeply.

"Donatello?" Sam said, unsure. "Is that really you?"

"Sam Winchester?" the professor spoke, bewildered. "Dean? Is God with you?"

The strange question, exactly the same one that the prophet had asked them when he met Jack, made the brothers realize that very probably some explanations needed to be given.

"No, God is not here. There's... there's my brother and me, and this is my fiancée Jessica, who was resurrected by God, actually. And you already know Castiel. The other one is another angel, Balthazar, also recently revived, and...

"I'm Jack," the boy smiled politely, offering his hand. "But we already met."

"We... we did?" Donatello stuttered, trying to accept the handshake, but his incorporeal hand went right through the nephilim's. "Oh... sorry. I don't understand what's happening, but I feel a bit out of myself."

"You don't say," Dean mumbled, earning a bitchface from his brother.

"Well, it's always a pleasure to make new acquaintances, no matter the circumstances."

"Donatello, why are you here?" Castiel asked, wanting to solve the mystery. " _How_ are you here?"

"What's the last thing you remember?" Sam joined.

"I remember... being at home. Then this elegant but very scary lady appeared out of nowhere, grabbed me, and... then nothing. Next thing is seeing you again."

"Sir, please sit down," Jessica offered him a chair, though she didn't know if a soul could actually sit. "There are some important things you need to know."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Donatello Redfield, chemistry professor and emergency Prophet of the Lord, looked at himself in a bed of a hospital. There were several machines connected to his body, keeping him alive, but only superficially. The core, the essence of a human being was the soul, and that had been detached for far too long.

He had taken the blow pretty well, in everyone's opinion. He hadn't yelled, hadn't cried (not that a soul could actually cry), hadn't demanded compensation... Same as many of the other things that had happened to him during his life, he assimilated them with a noble acceptance. After all, he had led a good life, and that was already more than many people could say.

"I am deeply sorry for this," Castiel apologized one more time. "You did not deserve it, but there was no other way to save you from the corruption of the Demon Tablet."

"I understand," the man sighed sadly. "This isn't how I expected my life to end, but... well, what can we do. This way or another, I guess it's not that much of a difference."

"You helped us a great deal, Donatello," Sam thanked him. "Several times. We considered you a friend."

The professor smiled, a bit touched by his sincerity.

"I'm glad to have met you, boys. Never think otherwise. I enjoyed my life, even if sometimes it felt a bit lonely. And still, not being alone here in my deathbed, having friends worrying for me... It's a great joy to my old heart. Perhaps that's why God rescued me, to make me realize it and be able to say my farewells."

"What?" Dean frowned. "Chuck rescued you? Are you sure?"

"Yes, absolutely. My mind was a bit hazy in the bunker, but after seeing myself here it became clear. I don't remember my time as a snack, but I remember since the moment the Darkness gave me back to God. He sent me back with some words for you."

Both Winchesters and the angel looked at him expectantly, wanting to hear said words.

"First, Sam, he heard your prayer. He wants you to know, to understand, that even if he doesn't intervene, it doesn't mean that he doesn't care anymore. He actually cares a lot. Whatever you prayed to him, his answer is ' _Sometimes you need to tempt fate_ '. Second, that he knows everything that's happening, of course. But he's busy with some kind of big project that I'm not privy to, and that's why he won't interfere this time either. God really puts all his trust in you, boys."

"Yeah, sure. We're his golden boys," Dean snarled. "To me that sounds like a bunch of excuses, as usual."

"Dean," Donatello spoke in a rather fatherly tone. "As a former atheist, I consider myself impartial enough to judge on facts and character, and let me tell you that you're not being fair. You accuse God of doing nothing after he created everything, because he wanted his creations to follow their own path. As there's pain, there's also happiness. Hand in hand with freedom goes responsibility. If you don't thank God for the good things, then you can't blame him for the bad ones."

The hunter didn't know how to reply to that, so he kept silent.

"And third and last, Castiel, this is a message for your son. God wasn't pleased with what Lucifer did, but he doesn't regret allowing Jack to live, even if he's a nephilim. He's proud of both of you. And like I said, God is busy with something, but tell Jack that a day will come when they will meet."

The angel nodded, smiling in gratitude for the message. He already knew that Jack was a good kid, but receiving Father's blessing made him feel all the more proud.

"Now I wonder how my own story ends," Donatello inquired, dubious. "What am I supposed to do?"

A good question, that was.

"I believe you rightfully earned your peace, Donatello," Castiel attempted to say in the most delicate way possible. "If you want, you could ascend to Heaven and reach your final destination."

"That sounds very nice."

"In your current soul state, I can put you back into your body and stop these machines. This way you will be able to actually die. A reaper will come to retrieve you and guide you to your piece of Heaven, if you agree."

"Are you sure this is what you want, Donny? There'll be no coming back."

"What else is left for me to do? Yes, I feel like I'm ready to go. Please, Castiel."

Castiel nodded, and chanting another Enochian litany, Donatello's shape began to blur until returning to its original spiralling bubble form. The angel took it in his hands and carefully inserted it inside the unresponsive body. At a sign of his head, the brothers proceeded to turn off the machines and unplug them. The room became quiet, no more beeping noises.

"The reaper is here," Castiel said not even a minute after. "Donatello is waving his hand in goodbye at you."

"Wish you the best upstairs, man. You nailed it," Dean said to the apparent empty room.

"See you again someday, Donatello," Sam added.

An almost imperceptible shift in the atmosphere was all the sign they got. It had already ended.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Unbeknownst to the people he left behind, the Prophet of the Lord actually had a fourth message to deliver. This last one, however, wasn't addressed to a human but to an angel. Not even to a one in particular, just whoever angel was holding the reins up in Heaven at the moment of his arrival. And just as the course of history had been, that was Naomi.

"This is a highly uncommon procedure," she greeted him, ticked off but still diplomatically polite. "However, considering the current circumstances and the origin of your message, I didn't deem advisable to deny you the meeting you required."

"Very much obliged, madam." Donatello sat down on the seat she offered him. "I assure you I have no intentions of becoming a nuisance. The moment I say what was asked of me to say, it's very likely I won't bother you ever again."

"It relieves me to hear that. As you have maybe noticed, Heaven is not at its best right now."

"Yes, I've seen it. A pity, truth be told. Hopefully, the message I bring will help make it better, because some essential changes need to be done... And even if only a dozen of angels remain nowadays, they too need to be prepared in order to adapt."

"What about the other soul that reappeared with you, mister Redfield?" Naomi inquired, curious. "Should we expect to receive her soon too?"

"It was a she? I confess I didn't know. That other soul and I were not acquainted."

"I see. Let's get straight to the point, then. Please, you may commence."

Naomi interlaced her fingers and leaned back in her chair, listening attentively to the prophet. This was going to be a long meeting.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	17. Chapter 16

_Claps for you if you understand the reference in this chapter! ;-)_

* * *

 **Chapter 16**

Kaia crouched on the ground, hidden by the shadows of the night, panting harshly. She had been running for hours, but no matter how far she went, the presence kept tagging after her. At least she had perceived it soon enough, at the evening, when nobody else was yet at sheriff Mills' home. That had made her escape all the easier, only having to take care of herself. The woman would likely be worried about Kaia, but better that than dead, because who knew what that damn Legion could do to her or to the other girls under her protection.

So she was alone again. After all this time, just when Kaia thought that finally... But nevermind, she was already accustomed to it. It was only her last piece's tender heart that made everything feel more important than it actually was. Probably.

A shift in the air made Kaia's stomach churn. She inhaled rapidly and started running again through the woods. Thankfully she was used to this kind of game, played in the shadows, when she didn't find prey to feed the giant that imprisoned her, and had to hide until she did or risk being devoured herself. If only she knew what kind of creature was this other monster, this _shedim_ thing, perhaps she could keep fighting it like she had tried at first and defeat it. But she was only one after all, while Legion apparently was made of many.

Just as Kaia pulled her hood lower, in order to make herself more difficult to spot in the darkness, there was a sudden burst of fire barely a couple of metres ahead of her. Due to her heightened reflexes, she immediately took the spear from her back and circled the very obvious unnatural fire, readying herself into a fighting stance. But before her very eyes, the fire instantly became a woman.

The girl breathed deeply, still panting from the running, but lost no time in pointing her weapon at the fire woman's throat. She looked at it dismissively, as if being threatened was more of a bother than a real danger. A bit bored, even; a bit offended too, and certainly more than a bit annoyed.

"Is this how children in Earth greet their elders nowadays?" she spoke, her voice sensual but strong and filled with undeniable authority.

"I wouldn't know, since I'm not a child nor from this Earth," Kaia answered, still no lowering her spear.

"You might not be a child by human standards of time, but your age still cannot compare to mine. Besides, I feel that your life clock has only recently been restarted."

Kaia swallowed hard, feeling uneasy under the overwhelming presence of the woman. Slowly, she put her weapon down, sensing no harmful intention from her, and took a better look at her. There was still fire on her, or maybe _in_ her, since in the darkness she somehow glowed. The woman was beautiful, with tanned skin, strong arms and commanding eyes. Dark, wavy hair and luscious red lips. She wore a red blouse and a black skirt that complimented her slim waist and petite complexion.

"How did you find me?" Kaia asked, suspicious. "Were you even looking for me, or is this mere coincidence?"

"No coincidence happened here. It has been since months ago that I felt several holes in our world opening and closing. My guess is that you came from one of them, but why haven't you been poisoned and expelled yet from a place that you don't belong to? I came for an answer, and thus I deigned myself to respond to your plea."

"I made no plea."

"Not all pleas need to be voiced out. What are you running from?"

"How do you know I'm running from something?" Kaia retorted, still not convinced. "Maybe I'm just exercising."

"In the middle of the night, hiding in a forest several kilometres away from civilization, and with only a weapon as company? Child, you're fooling no one. You're either running from somewhere, or from someone."

The girl snarled, but didn't deny the evidence.

"A creature of this world seems to have taken a liking to me. I battled it, but I was eventually overpowered. Now it's haunting me."

"What creature?"

"I think it's called a shedim."

"A shedim," the woman hissed, closing her eyes for a second. "How in Earth has one of those spawns got out of its jail?"

"I don't know the full story, but apparently the Winchesters had some kind of accident with the nephilim."

"THE WINCHESTERS?!" the woman bellowed furiously, being engulfed in flames again. "Of course it had to be them. What a not surprise!"

Kaia took a step back, almost raising her spear again. She didn't know whether to take the fact that the stranger knew the brothers as a good or bad thing, considering her reaction. The fire woman shook a little in anger, but pretty quickly she recovered her elegant, composed self.

"We should talk for a while, you and I, about your story. I can shield you, take you away from here." She offered her hand in invitation, but her tone was far from being a suggestion. "What's your name, child?"

The girl observed her again, mistrust painted clear on her face. But if she remained there, sooner or later Legion would pick on her trail again; or even worse, it could go after sheriff Mills and her girls. All things considered, it was better to put as much distance as possible away from them.

"Kaia Nieves. That's the name I answer to now," she introduced herself, taking the woman's hand. "We can talk, but after we do, could you take me to the Winchesters? I've fought with them, and I know they at least will be able to fend for themselves if the shedim finds me again. And what should I call you, stranger?"

The woman smirked, satisfied that Kaia had accepted her help.

"You may call me Kali."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sam entered the library, carrying a big cardboard box in his arms, and looking for his brother. Dean was relaxing there, a beer at his side, and an open laptop in front of him searching for a case.

"Hey, Dean."

"Hi," he greeted back, before focusing in the box. "What you got there?"

"Something Jess told me that she and Cas found while going through the storage. But don't get your hopes up, it's not what you expect. It's not anything to beat anyone."

"Then what is it?"

The younger hunter put the box on the table, and carefully tore off the duct tape that kept it closed. Digging in, the first thing to come out was a tinsel.

"No way," Dean mumbled, getting up to look inside the box.

"Yes way," Sam replied. "It's full of Christmas items. And this is not even the only box. There are a few more with Jewish, Muslim and pagan decorations."

Dean leaned on his knuckles, on the table, looking intently at his brother.

"Sam, Christmas is still a couple of months away."

"Yeah, I know, but..." Sam fidgeted, nervous. "I know you're not a fan, in fact the only time you actually wanted to celebrate it was when you were going to Hell, but I... I mean, Jess and I would like to. I'm just telling you beforehand so you have time to get used to the idea."

"We didn't celebrate Christmas last year. Why is now different?"

Sam sighed deeply, but well, he already knew this wasn't going to be easy.

"Jess also wanted to celebrate last year, but she was still a little freaked out about her resurrection, and then Dagon and Lucifer, and then the whole Jack's birth thing... Not that we're any better this time, with once again several impending menaces hanging over us, but at least..."

"We are," Dean interrupted, the softest of smiles playing on his mouth. "Yeah, we're doomed four ways into next Thursday, but we're better than we were last year. You have Jess, I-I have Cas, and we also have Jack in the team. That's a family, Sam. Even some of our friends made it out alive, which is awesome!"

Sam chuckled, reveling in the unusual, cheerful attitude of the other Winchester.

"So... does this mean we have plans for this year's Christmas?"

"Yeah, Sammy," he nodded, taking a sip from his beer. "Impending death is almost a tradition for us anyway, so why not? Count me in."

The younger hunter grinned, glad to have some happy news to deliver to his fiancée. He closed back the cardboard box, intending to put it away somewhere until used, when he remembered the other reason for which he went looking for his brother.

"Oh, by the way," he spoke. "Since we can't make a move until Balthazar brings us some info about his part of the job, I'm helping Jess to get back a life. Tomorrow we'll be going to West Virginia, where her parents live, probably for the whole week. I already asked Cas for his car, since I guessed you wouldn't want to be apart from the Impala for so long. Also, about Cas..."

"What about Cas?"

"How are... you know... things going between you two?" Sam asked cautiously, not wanting to spook the other man with mushy-feely talks. "All ok?"

Dean seemed startled for a moment, like the question puzzled him. He opened his mouth to answer, but for a few seconds no word came out.

"I... it's good. I think. We... we're good, yeah."

Sam didn't look convinced, though. He pulled out a chair and sat down, intending to bring his brother into the chick-flick moment no matter if he wanted or not.

"You know I only ask because I care, right? You're my brother and Cas is my friend, but considering our rate of successful relationships, I'm afraid that perhaps our standard for 'Good' might be quite low. And while I'm _extremely_ happy that you two morons have finally advanced past the eye-sex phase, I can't help but notice that you have jumped into this quite easily, despite the many years in the making."

"Dude, what are you talking about?" Dean frowned. "It has been anything but easy."

"Dean, you have only ever been interested in women, letting aside your crush on Dr. Sexy. And while I feel very proud of you for looking beyond that with Cas, he's still a man."

"He... he's not a man, he's an angel in a male vessel, which is different," he retorted, uncomfortable with the subject. "That's why I've told you it hasn't been easy, not at all. I'm... I know I'm used to another equipment in my partners, and believe me, I still have some accustoming to do, but when it's about Cas... it's like it doesn't really matter. I don't think of dicks or lack of boobs, that's just... flesh. Different shapes, different functioning. But Cas is inside, _that's_ what matters. And I'm not going to make him move to a female vessel just to spare me some awkward feelings. Why are you smiling like a doofus?"

Certainly, from about half of Dean's answer forwards, Sam has started to smile like he was getting high on rainbows and candies.

"Oh, Dean, that was so beautiful!" he innocently mocked him, crossing his hands over his chest. "Here I was thinking that I'd have to give you some kind of Let-your-feelings-flow speech, but you already gave yourself one. Oh man, I feel so touched and it's not even about me!"

"Sam," Dean grunted, annoyed.

"No, really, Dean! It was so poetic, maybe you should develop another hobby?"

"Sam!" he grunted louder.

"When you and Cas marry, I so hope you let me walk you down the aisle, please!"

"Sammy, dammit! Shut your face or I'm going to shave you bald!"

"Say what you want, but you're blushing so cutely!"

"I'm not!"

"Yes, you are!"

"No, I'm not, bitch!"

"Jerk! I'm just happy for you, Dean," Sam calmed down. "You deserve it. Don't go now and sabotage yourself, please."

Dean took another sip of his beer, averting his eyes.

"Believe it, I'm trying not to fuck it this time."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

With barely a faint light coming through the grid in the door, Castiel was reading a book that night, after a lot of insisting from Dean's part that it couldn't really be that much interesting to watch him drooling over his pillow during hours onwards. The angel disagreed, not only because the hunter didn't actually drool, but because it was somehow funny to catch all the small twitches in the hunter's face when he was deep into REM sleep, and imagining what possibly he could be dreaming about.

Approximately forty pages into the book, the show kinda started for Castiel. Dean turned towards him, shuffling a little with the sheets because the bed wasn't big enough to move around, and sneaked an arm around the angel's hips. Castiel arched an eyebrow, this was new. Since he started to share the nights with Dean a couple of weeks ago, the man hadn't really got this close yet. To his joy, maybe this meant that his beloved was finally beginning to feel more comfortable in his presence, and without thinking further Castiel kissed gently his cheek. What would Dean be dreaming?

 _He is in a bar. A nice one, for once. No stains on the floor, good music in the jukebox and a pretty, curvy and scantily dressed blonde bartender._

 _*Looks like you've got an admirer,* she says, serving him one shot and looking somewhere behind him._

 _*You sure it's not you?* he flirts._

 _She doesn't answer, and he lets her go. Raising his drink, he looks behind in the same direction the bartender has, intending to thank the admirer. He isn't disappointed by what he sees: a firm jaw, tempting lips, dark sex-hair, and soul-piercing blue eyes. Yeah, totally not bad._

 _After swallowing the shot, he stands up and heads towards the stranger. The shy but devastatingly handsome guy follows him with his gaze, and soon enough Dean stops in front of him._

 _*Hey, buddy. Thanks for the drink. Do you mind if I sit here and we get to know each other better?*_

 _*It will be my pleasure if you do so,* the stranger answers in an incredibly rough and sexy voice._

 _*Good! My name's Dean, Dean Winchester,* he says, holding out his hand._

 _*Glad to make your acquaintance, Dean. I am...*_

Outside the dream, Castiel had began to wonder if something was wrong. Dean was squirming and fidgeting, and the grip on the angel's waist was strong. He was also panting slightly, hiding his face on Castiel's hipbone, and rubbing himself quite insistently against his thigh. For a minute or two there was quite a lot of movement from the hunter, but just when Castiel was about to wake him up, fearing that he might be suffering through a nightmare, Dean let out a soft groan and suddenly relaxed.

"Cas..." he sighed contentedly.

Castiel frowned, confused. There had been a change in Dean's body, but he wasn't sure what. There were copius amounts of pheromones and endorphins flowing out of the human, a fact apparently related to the seraph, if his whispered name was anything to go by. Worried, the angel tapped Dean's forehead with a finger and ran a check-up on him.

Oh.

Ooohhh...

That hadn't been a nightmare, not by a long shot.

Perplexed, Castiel stood up from the bed and left. He didn't come back that night.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Dean stirred in the bed, smiling and feeling reinvigorated after a nice, long night of very pleasant dreams. Sometimes it was still a wonder to him, the fact that now they had a cozy and safe place to rest in, after having been using crappy motels almost all their lives. No more sleeping with an eye open, in case something jumped at you in the dark. A soft mattress and good-smelling blankets didn't hurt either.

However, his just-woke-up happiness didn't last. As soon as he extended his arm and patted the other half of the bed, Dean noticed there wasn't any other body there, contrary as to what had been since several days ago. Opening his sleepy eyes, he looked around searching for his vanished partner, but Castiel was nowhere to be found in the bedroom. And considering that his side of the bed was completely cold, he had left a long while ago.

"Cas?" Dean called just in case, but there was no answer.

Yawning and rubbing his eyes, Dean started to get up when he felt how uncomfortably his boxers were sticking to him. They were in fact almost _glued_ to his forefront skin. A sudden realization hit him.

"Oh, fuck," he cursed, looking inside his underwear and confirming his suspicions.

Like a wee teenager, he had cummed in his sleep. Damn wet dreams... damn suggestive, hot, awesome wet dreams. Yeah, damn them.

... Wait a minute. Cas was gone, when he should have been in bed with him. Dean had a wet dream, and he had cummed in his sleep. It didn't take a genius to add two and two.

Cursing more under his breath, the hunter grabbed some fresh clothes and hurried to the locker room to shower and make himself decent. Once clean, he headed to the kitchen to grab some breakfast, greeting Jack in the library.

"Good morning, Dean. You have slept more than usual today," the boy commented, looking away from the Scooby gang in the laptop screen for a second.

"Yeah, guess I was more tired than I thought."

"Is everything alright?" Jack frowned a little. "You seem... agitated."

"I'm fine, just... you know, hungry."

Jack nodded in understanding, and focused his attention back to the cartoons. Dean entered the kitchen, and let out a sigh of relief when he saw the angel sitting at the table, drinking a mug of coffee.

"Hey Cas," he smiled, a little nervous.

"Hello, Dean. Have you slept well?"

The question, normal as it was, was asked without making eye contact. That was never a good sign in the hunter's book.

"I have," Dean answered, helping himself to some coffee too. "But, uh... I wondered where you were."

Cas' sip sounded a bit louder, as if the remark had startled him.

"I... I reckoned it would be more convenient for you if I was not present when you woke up," the angel replied, looking away. "For the sake of privacy and... personal space?"

Dean froze for a moment, unsure how to lead this conversation. Did Cas know what had happened? Did Cas _not_ know? And even if he knew, what he thought about it? The memory of their only visit to a brothel came vivid to Dean, the distressed and scared face of the angel etched in his brain. But then, Cas had had sex with that reaper bitch when he was human for a while. Did that mean he was ok with the sexy stuff or not? Maybe he thought it was fine for humans, but as an angel again, such base instincts were beneath him?

"Cas, you..." Dean spoke softly, sitting down in front of him. "You know how we humans work, right? Our bodies. What happened last night, I can't really control it."

"Do you mean your wet dream? I know what those are, Dean, and I do not shame you for them."

For the second time in a minute, Dean froze again.

"You... How do you know that?"

"Because you were restless in bed. You panted and squirmed against me, and such actions misled me into believing that you were having a nightmare. Therefore, as I used to do in the past, I intended to appease you. I promise to did it only with your well-being in mind, but when I touched your forehead... I did not mean to pry, but I saw it, Dean. You and I were in a rather intimate situation."

At this, the hunter dragged a hand down his face, grunting in embarrassment.

"That was... Fuck, Cas. I'm sorry you had to see that, though it could have been worse. Last night was actually kinda vanilla compared to some of the things I dreamed about in my younger years... which I totally shouldn't have said. Are you... were you grossed out by it?"

Castiel put down his mug and tilted his head, that completely _not_ adorable frown on his face back.

"Grossed out? No, I was not, Dean. Why would I be?"

"Well, because..." Dean tried to explain, but no actual explanation came to him. "I don't know, dude. Because it's a human thing that angels don't do? Because you left me on my own?"

Realization dawned on Castiel's face at the not so subtle accusation.

"Dean, you misunderstand what happened," the seraph affirmed fervently. "I did not leave you out of revulsion. Quite the opposite, in fact. When your body released its seed, I desired to cleanse you, but you do not seem to approve the use of grace on you without your express consent, and I did not want to act against your wishes. Undressing and touching you without the aforementioned consent, even for cleaning purposes, did not feel any righter. But I foresaw that waking up beside me with your spill dry in your undergarments was going to be an unpleasant situation for you, and I preferred to spare you the mortification."

Dean was quiet for a moment, but after such a speech from his best-and-kissable-friend, an irrepressible laugh burst from his mouth.

"Chuckdammit, Cas! We need to have a talk about what's acceptable and what not between us, since we're... you know, developing whatever this is. Set some ground rules."

"Were you really worried that you might have disgusted me, Dean?"

"Wouldn't be the first time, I'm sure. And probably won't be the last either."

"Many things that humans do disgust me," Castiel elaborated. "Lying, killing and betraying each other... inflicting pain to other beings. But those are not traits exclusive to humankind. Angels, and myself, we have done it too; it would be hypocrite to reject humans for that. But among all your faults, your biological functions are not ones to push me away. Truth be told, Dean, when I witnessed your dream... it actually brought me great joy."

The Winchester arched an eyebrow, surprised at that, and more than a little curious when he spotted the reddening cheeks of the angel. Smirking, he couldn't help to tease him about it.

"Really? Why's that?"

Castiel was the one embarrassed now, not able to look Dean in the eye, but a tender smile played on his lips.

"I know you feel affection for me, Dean, but since the change in our relationship, I have been constantly wondering what would be the limit of it. When would we reach a point that you could not cross, and I believed that was the barrier of my vessel. You... you are only attracted to females, and while I could spend the rest of my existence happy just sharing a platonic bond with you, it saddened me to think that I would never join with you in the human way. However, what I saw in your wet dream gave me hope that perhaps one day such a union might be achieved. Maybe I am being delusional, because I understand that dreams are not reality, but you seemed amenable to physical intercourse, and even received enough gratification from the action I was performing on my knees to climax outside the dream."

"Ok, stop already. I know what I dreamed, you don't need to remind me," Dean interrupted, beginning to feel a little tense in his fresh boxers. "Geez, Cas. Just because my mind conjured whatever, doesn't mean you have to do anything."

This, however, seemed to dampen the angel's mood more than reassure him.

"Do you not want me to touch you, Dean?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"I didn't mean it like that!" Dean immediately backtracked, swallowing hard. "Sure you can touch me. We, we kiss and hug and sometimes hold hands... and we cuddle at night in my bed. Yeah, we totally do! I meant that those other kind of things, the dream things, are still too much to handle right now, Cas."

"If you say so," Castiel accepted, but his dejection was evident.

"Look, buddy, there're other things we can do together without anyone losing their clothes yet."

"Like what?"

Taken aback for a moment at the sudden question, Dean raked his brain for an answer.

"Like a... a date! What about a date, Cas?" he grinned, satisfied with the idea. "You know about my past frequent hook-ups, but I haven't been in a real date in years, not since I was living with Lisa. Man, didn't even realize how long ago was that. It almost feels nostalgic."

Castiel's only memory of an attempted date wasn't sweet, but this wasn't the same as with Nora. This was Dean, and they were in some kind of romantic relationship. Romantically engaged people went on dates, right? It would be nice to have a date with Dean, but then...

"If we go on a date together, as a couple, would it be appropriate to say that we will be dating?"

Dean inhaled sharply, as if only realizing it now, but he didn't retreat from the challenge. He was doing this with his angel, and that was final.

"Yes, Cas. We'll be officially dating."

* * *

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	18. Chapter 17

_S_ _pecial thanks to Ormus45 for the Samsica idea here! :D_

* * *

 **Chapter 17**

The intended week away was almost gone, and Sam found himself already heading back to the bunker, tired and with a very bereaved fiancée lying down in the backseat of Castiel's Lincoln Continental. Nothing had gone as expected in West Virginia.

For starters, Jessica's childhood home was no more, and in its place now stood an office block. The whole neighbourhood had been re-urbanized, which had forced Sam to don his FBI suit and ask around like he would do during a case, because obviously Jessica couldn't do it herself if people believed she was dead. But the answers had been devastating: her parents had already passed away, both of them. It wasn't even something new. It had happened six years ago, long before she herself had been resurrected.

Mother died of a sudden heart attack, the report said; swift and painless death. Father followed her the very next day, a heart too broken to keep going on with no wife and no daughter to love anymore. Sam and Jessica had visited their graves, since her parents had been buried together. Crying, she had said her farewell to them, but hadn't uttered a single word more since then.

"Precious," Sam called her softly, careful of the road. "Please, talk to me. I know how much it hurts, I've lived with this all my life, but keeping it inside will do you no good."

Jessica only sobbed, and for a moment it seemed like she wasn't going to answer.

"I miss them, Sam. So much. It probably sounds stupid, since they departed long ago... since _I_ departed long ago. But to me, it feels like it has just happened today."

"It's not stupid," he reassured her. "Losing someone you loved is always painful, no matter how much time passes."

The sunset dyed the road golden, but dark clouds on the horizon were announcing an early rain. The car was silent again, except for the disconsolate sniffles that Jessica was trying to suffocate with little to none success. Sam didn't know what to do to bring some kind of comfort to his beloved, but as the night closed over them and rain started to fall, a road sign pointing to the next fork gave him an idea.

"Hey, precious. We're going to take a little detour, ok? Since we're crossing Illinois, there's something I want to show you."

The woman didn't respond, so Sam did as he said. A couple of hours later, he stopped the car in front of the iron gates of Greenville Cemetery. Getting out, he opened the trunk and thanked Castiel for keeping at least some basic tools there, like salt and holy oil... and yes, flashlights. Too bad there wasn't an umbrella too.

"Jess, wake up," he called, shaking her gently. "We've arrived. Please, come out. It's still raining, but not as much as before. Be careful not to slip."

Stretching out her sore muscles for being coped in the car for several hours, Jessica took one of the flashlights that Sam was offering her and followed him.

"Are you sure we can be here at his hour?" she asked him, dubious.

"No, I don't really think we should. But we're already here anyway."

Holding her hand, Sam guided her through the evidently known graveyard until stopping in front of a particular tombstone.

 _Mary Winchester_

 _1954-1983_

 _In loving memory_

"Jess, I'd like to introduce you to my mum." Sam's small smile dropped almost instantly. "It's something I always wanted to do, but sadly she's not here. She isn't anywhere. And I mean there's nothing of her buried down here. This plaque is only commemorative."

The lump in his throat was making it hard to speak, but the hunter continued, squeezing Jessica's hand.

"My mother, she died in a fire when I was only six months. There was nothing left of her to bury. I never met her, I don't have a single memory of us together. Dean, and very occasionally Dad, told me stories about her: the meals she cooked or the ones she bought, the Beatles song she sang to us as a lullaby, her hobbies, her smile... but not even one of those memories are mine. I have nothing."

Jessica, quiet as she was listening, let go of his hand and instead hugged him tightly. Sam responded to the embrace, but kept talking.

"I know... likely this isn't much a solace, but you had two decades with your parents, Jess. Two decades worth of memories and love. And even now, if you need it, you can pay your respects to their grave. But this one here? It's just a stone."

"I thought that you had met her in the past?" she asked in confusion.

"Yeah, but that was... was not really my mother. Not yet. She was a tender, loving wife version of a Mary Winchester that had just found out she was pregnant with my brother. She wasn't _Mum_."

The couple stood there for a while, embracing under the light rain and seeking peace in each other's presence, until they felt ready to leave and continue their way back to the bunker. This time, Jessica sat once again beside Sam in the front seat.

"I love you, Sam," she said softly. "And I don't want to lie to you. This supernatural life of yours, it scares me. I repeat to myself that I have to be supportive, but I don't know if eventually I'll become a nuisance. If that ever happens... please, you need to tell me."

"Jess, no!" Sam whispered, raising a hand to cup tenderly her cheek. "You would never be a nuisance to me. And this... this is my life, which I want to share with you, but it doesn't mean you have to do the same. We went looking for your parents because you want to live your life too, don't you? We'll find you a college, you'll finish your History major, find a legit job... We can marry some day. We can have that life together, precious. I'm sorry about your parents, but _you_ are still alive! Don't throw that away, please."

"What if one of the things that you hunt finds me? I don't want to be used as bait to get to you."

"That's something that will always happen, no matter what. Either you, or someone else. At least you knew how to handle the Devil!" Sam laughed at the memory. "What was that, by the way?"

"Cas taught me a few movements whenever you and Dean left us in the bunker. Not enough to actually fight, but at least the minimum to defend myself if necessary. I'm still learning, but he said that looking meek and fragile could also be used to my advantage, should the situation arise."

"So you see? You're not a huntress but you're already amazing, precious." Sam smiled before kissing her. "And it just occurred to me, but I think you would be a fantastic Woman of Letters. No blood, only knowledge."

Jessica kissed him back, considering the idea. A Woman of Letters? Yes, maybe that was something she could get accustomed to.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The moment Dean and Castiel stepped back into the bunker, groceries bags in their hands, the angel knew something was wrong. There was a foreign presence there with them, most likely uninvited... or better said, _two_ presences.

"Dean," he barely murmured, dropping the bags on the staircase and pulling out his blade.

No further warning was needed. The hunter dropped his bags too and drew out his gun.

"What is it, Cas?" he asked quietly, going downstairs.

"I am not sure. It does not possess a malevolent aura, but it is strong. Better to keep on guard."

"Now this makes me think, did we ever put back all the demon wardings after Crowley?"

"No, I do not think we did."

"Oh, shit."

The mystery got solved by itself quite fast, though. The moment they crossed the threshold to the library, several people (more than expected) greeted them. The younger Winchester and his fiancée, plus the nephilim boy, was normal; the lady and the girl, though, was not.

"What the hell?" Dean said, not actually sure if he should put away his gun or not.

"Yeah, same here," Sam nodded, pinching his nose in frustration. "Jess and I came back only an hour ago, and they were already here. Leisurely chatting with Jack."

"Long time no see, Winchester the Older," the goddess spoke. "But I cannot say it's a pleasure, regretfully."

"Jack!" Castiel exclaimed, going to his son, concern etched in his features. "Are you alright?"

"I am," he answered cheerfully. "Kaia is visiting me. Friends go to each other's homes, right? To talk and play? We were doing that."

"Yeah, right," Dean scoffed at that, focusing on the Indian. "What are you doing here, Kali? Playing your part as a chaperone, making sure the kids behave?"

The woman didn't respond to the obvious taunt, but stood up from her chair and walked slowly to the hunter, her every step demanding respect. Even with her short stature, it was still difficult for the hunter not to recoil under her gaze.

"What have you done now, Winchesters?" she spoke lowly, fury and contempt barely veiled in her voice. "Once again you're breaking havoc wherever you go. Is there no limit for your imprudence?"

"Circumstances happened, Kali," Sam jolted to his brother's aid, which only earned him a derisive glance from the goddess. "I know it probably doesn't mean much to you, but we're trying to save the world. Again."

"Mean much? That means _everything_ , mortal. That is actually the only thing keeping me from annihilating you two right here and now. Because, try as you might, I cannot ignore the fact that if the world is once more in need of saving, is because you have broken it. Just like a child who can't take care of his toys."

"Well, what do you want us to say?" Dean finally reacted. "We're sorry? Because we truly are, but it's not like we can avoid shit to happen. We try to do something good, and something bad happens right after. We're just humans, we're not perfect, ok? So yeah, you could cut us some slack too, princess."

If looks could kill (and Dean was pretty sure Kali's could), the hunter would have been roasted in the spot. Fortunately, the goddess' attention moved to the dreamwalker.

"Are you sure you want to stay here, child?"

"Wait, what?!" Sam exclaimed. "What do you mean, 'stay here'? Why?"

"Kaia is being chased down by Legion," Jack explained. "She didn't want to endanger Jody or the other girls under her care. So she's staying with us now."

"And who the hell decided that?" Dean bellowed. "You?"

Jack's happy demeanour decayed, hearing the condemning tone in the hunter's voice. Had he done something wrong? He merely wanted to help and protect people.

"Kaia is my friend," he whispered, cowed. "It's only thanks to her that I was able to locate Jess in the other world. She killed herself trying to rescue you and Sam from the Bad Place. She left Jody's house to protect them. Shouldn't I help her, now that she's the one in trouble? You, Sam and Castiel always try to protect each other, because you're friends and that's what friends do. Please?"

Castiel smiled proudly, but didn't say anything. Sam and Jess kept quiet too, but it was obvious what they thought. Dean sighed in defeat, running a hand through his hair.

"You're right, kid. We don't abandon our friends when they need us. I guess it's settled then that the girl is staying in the bunker," he admitted, but immediately added. "But she's getting her own room. No funny business, got it, Romeo?"

The nephilim frowned in confusion in a very Cas-like manner, but didn't ask about the strange order.

"But Kaia, if you want to be here with us, we need to know about you," Sam told the girl. "What are you, where you come from... what you can and cannot do."

"She's an avatar," Kali answered for her, since she didn't seem willing to it. "She's the physical manifestation of a god or goddess. There have been some in my pantheon, but Kaia isn't one of ours. Compared to me, for setting an example, she would be a lesser goddess."

Taking into account how many people were staring at her astonished, Kaia guessed there was no more escaping from telling her story.

"I'm not from this Earth, that's true. I'm from a parallel one. Back at home (and I meant home, not what you call the Bad Place) there were more like me. When we reach maturity, we must face a trial to prove our worth if we want to join the higher circles of our society. I accepted mine, and was exiled to an alternate reality in my world, this the Bad Place. But... I failed." Kaia's voice broke a little, her face contorted in shame. "I couldn't defeat the guardian, the titan. It broke me in pieces and sent them across different worlds, condemning me to no escape and no possible death, unless letting myself being devoured by it. I've waited for centuries until all my pieces found their way back to me."

"If you're whole again, why don't you go back?" Jess inquired.

"Because I can't," Kaia murmured, sad. "I may have recovered all my wandering pieces, but the fact that I failed my trial remains. If I went home, they would simply exile me again. There's no place for me there, not anymore."

"You don't have to," Jack attempted to cheer her up. "You're my friend now. You can stay with me. Or you could live with Jody, she seemed to like you."

The youngsters then engaged in their own conversation, not of interest for the grown-ups, who took theirs to the other corner of the library.

"Well, I guess this means we have one less problem to take care of now," Sam opined. "This Kaia is not our enemy."

"What other problems are you drowning in?" Kali asked, helping herself to a shot from the glass decanter that was next to her.

"Besides Kaia? There's the shedim, AltMichael wanting to invade us, and Heaven disintegrating due to the lack of angels."

"The WHAT?!" the goddess shrieked very uncharacteristically. "What have you just said?"

"Yeah, didn't you know?" Dean confirmed nonchalantly, drinking a shot too. "Angels are about to going extinct, and if that happens, all the souls up there will fall back to Earth."

"A brother of mine, the angel Balthazar, is currently searching for hidden vaults that belonged to Lucifer and the last King of Hell," Castiel added. "We hope to find something useful in them to prevent such a catastrophe, but the statistics of finding a source of power great enough for it are scarce."

Kali's eyes darted around, like thinking intensely of something. Apparently having reached a conclusion, she finished her drink in one sip and straightened her posture.

"For better or worse, this won't be the last time we meet. Be sure of that."

And in a burst of flames, she was gone.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Balthazar stood in front of the desk, nervous and barely holding himself from fidgeting under the tough gaze of the current boss in Heaven. But what could he do? In tense moments like this, he usually would spurt some kind of joke in an attempt to relax the mood, but he didn't dare now. He absolutely didn't dare, not with a figurative bull's eye painted on his back.

"Despite all my reassurances, you still seem to expect someone putting you in chains any moment now," Naomi observed with a bit of satisfaction, fingers intertwined in a professional manner.

"Rogue as I am, that doesn't make me an idiot," Balthazar retorted. "I'm well aware that, wasn't the state of Heaven this dire, you would imprison me without batting an eye."

"Both of your statements are true," Naomi sighed, leaning in her chair. "The situation is beyond awful, which is forcing us to take extreme measures to deal with it. Apparently forgiving rogue angels is one of them, since we can't afford to lose even one more of us. That's why, once again, I promise that no harm will be done to you. Not on my command, at least. And in fact... I'm grateful that you have decided to collaborate with us, Balthazar."

"Heaven is still my home," he said, a bit more calmed now. "Angels are still my siblings. And of course, to protect Earth and humankind was God's last wish."

"Yes. I wonder when we forgot that," Naomi accepted, her eyes glossing just for a second. "But we're on our way to amend past mistakes, which is the reason I've asked you to come. Some new instructions have been given to us, very important ones, and we're following them to the best of our ability. And, since I guess that I can't retain you here to help because you want to work with Castiel, there's a little task for you."

The silver-eyed angel breathed deeply, and nodded. Whatever it was that Naomi intended him to do, he only hoped not to regret it later.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"It's been a long time since the food in my plate was actually dead."

This had been the first comment that the dreamwalker, wearing some of Jessica's clothes, made when Dean put his famous home-made burger under her nose.

"Yeah, I can relate. Your lizards didn't taste all that good."

"Please, you two make the rest of us a favour and shut up," Sam grimaced.

Sitting at the table, Team Free Will 2.0 plus avatar girl were about to enjoy their first meal together, but before they could sink their teeth into the hamburger, all the lights in the kitchen (as well as in the rest of bunker) started flickering like in a storm.

"Sammy, did you forget to pay the electricity bill again?"

The younger hunter bitchfaced, not thinking this was the time for smartass jokes, but he got up either way and headed to the library, intending to take one of the weapons that decorated the room in case they needed to defend themselves. The rest of the people followed him, but when they arrived, they found Balthazar already waiting there for them.

"Hello, darlings. Missed me? Don't feel shy in admitting it."

"Thaz, didn't your mother teach you not to play with the lightbulbs?" Dean grunted, looking around and wondering how many of the lamps would need maintenance.

"I see you've got some new company since my last visit," the rogue angel commented, ignoring the human and staring at Kaia. "Well then, I hope you don't mind me bringing another guest to the party, because it's not like I can take him back."

"Is this another angel?" Kaia asked, suspicious. "He doesn't look like Castiel. His wings aren't burnt and broken."

"Hey, watch your mouth, young lady," Dean warned her.

"Balthazar, what do you mean?" Castiel spoke, trying not to feel hurt by the insensitive observation. "Have you find the person whose belong the other soul that came with Donatello, perhaps? The one you have taken into custody?"

"No such luck yet, sorry. But you see, the thing is..." Balthazar became serious, all of his usual playfulness gone. "I was called upstairs. And I didn't want to go, but dammit, they wouldn't leave me alone! I had angel radio tuned into my brain 24h for days! So in the end, I answered the call because Naomi promised me she only wanted to talk, nothing else. And when I met her... I was given a mission."

The mood in the room abruptly turned sour. Not really strange, since none of the present people had a good memory of anything related to 'missions'.

"What kind of mission?" Castiel asked, tense.

"I don't really know what's happening in Heaven, Cas," Balthazar sighed, "but I was tasked to escort a very important someone down here. And thus, here he is."

And then Balthazar, who hadn't moved an inch since his arrival, turned around and showed everyone the person that stood behind him. Black hair, intelligent eyes, friendly smile and a badass attitude that he had learned from the Winchesters.

"Hey, guys! I bet you thought that you had seen the last of me."

"K-kevin?" Sam whispered, being the first to react.

He couldn't believe it. Was it possible? Was the young Prophet of the Lord actually right in front of them? A prophet that, mind you, had been sent to Heaven by said Lord himself? But yes, it was truly him. Your one-and-only Kevin Tran, smiling and carrying a backpack by the strap on his right shoulder.

"Good to see you again, Sam," he spoke sincerely. "And Dean, and Castiel. And whoever you others are, nice to meet you too."

"Kev, how... how are you here? Why?" Dean asked, happy but also befuddled.

"As interesting as those two little questions are, I'm sorry to disappoint, but I don't have the answers. However I'll tell you this: Heaven is currently under great remodelling. And when I say great, I mean massive. I've met Donatello, you know."

This caused a new wave of confusion among all the people who actually understood the ongoing conversation (meaning everyone except Kaia).

"I liked him, he was wise and kind. And I'm not sure what happened, but everything began to change after he arrived in Heaven. I actually think you might know more about this than me."

"You... you met the other prophet?" Castiel repeated, bewildered. "That is certainly unusual. Did any of you exited from your respective heavens?"

"No, not really like that. As I was telling you, Heaven is being remodelled. Souls are no longer confined to their own heavens. In the future, many clouds will be used as meeting places of sorts, or at least that's the plan I know of. For the time being, Ash's heaven Roadhouse is already acting like one for hunters and some other people aware of the supernatural. There is where I met Donatello."

A sharp gasp escaped from Dean's throat.

"You met Ash in the Roadhouse?" he mumbled, stunned, remembering when he and Sam had visited him upstairs.

"Yes. And not only him," Kevin grinned, sympathetic. "I met Pamela, Missouri, Rufus, and Ellen and Jo... and a few others. But more importantly, I also got to know one bubbly redhead named Charlie, who threatened me into delivering a message from her to you, Dean."

Ash. Pamela. Missouri. Rufus. Ellen and Jo. And Charlie... dammit, Charlie. So many friends, family, they have lost along the way.

"What's the message?"

"I warn you, it might not be to your liking. Are you sure you want to receive it?"

Charlie had died for them, like many others. She had died _because_ of them. Whatever spiteful words the redhead wanted to throw at his face, Dean was going to take them.

"Yeah, buddy. Go ahead."

Kevin walked slowly to the hunter, still not convinced, but seeing the older Winchester readying himself to listen to the message, he decided to do what had been asked of him. And so, fisting his hand, the prophet punched him with all his strength, making Dean retreat a couple of steps.

"This isn't from me, I promise," Kevin said, clenching and unclenching his aching hand. "But Charlie said, and I quote, ' _Don't be an idiot and stop blaming yourself for my death. I chose it because I love you, guys_ '. End of the message."

Dean looked at the prophet surprised, massaging his attacked jaw, but far from being angry, he laughed. He actually _laughed_. Fuck, that had been so Charlie! And apparently Sam and Castiel were of the same opinion, since they joined him in his laugh.

"Hey, wait a moment. You punched me."

"Because that was the message and you wanted to take it. Don't complain to me."

"No, I mean... Kev, you _physically_ punched me," Dean clarified. "You're not a ghost, you're... solid?"

"Very much, I was surprised too. But it looks like I'm going to be around for a while, so... here I am, in flesh and blood."

"Dammit, kid, come here!"

Before the prophet could even react, he was pulled into a strong hug by the hunter, followed by another from Sam and even Castiel. Then, introductions were made among the rest of the people.

"Welcome back, Kevin. For as long as you can stay," Sam smiled, patting the boy's back. "By the way, what's in your backpack?"

"Oh, yes. This is the reason I think I'm actually here for," Kevin said, placing it on the table and taking something out. "Naomi lent it to me in case you needed it."

For who knew what time again, the Winchester brothers and their angel were left speechless once more, staring at the item in the prophet's hands: amazing, powerful and in one piece as if never being broken, was the Angel Tablet.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	19. Chapter 18

_Translations are at the end of the chapter._

* * *

 **Chapter 18**

If Kevin's appearance had already been enough to leave Team Free Will flabbergasted, it wasn't exaggerate to say that seeing the Angel Tablet left them absolutely speechless.

"Wait, this has no sense," Sam babbled. "We know how bad is the situation in Heaven. If Naomi had access to a repaired Angel Tablet, why did she send it to us? Why not use it?"

"You are mixing Naomi with Metatron, Sam," Castiel replied, knowing better. "I have no doubts that she actually wants to use it, thus the reason she allowed Kevin to bring the tablet with him. Metatron was God's scribe, he knew what it is written here, but Naomi does not. As much as I trust her good will this time, I am positive that besides helping us, she also hopes to gain some knowledge of its content by allowing Kevin to work on it. After all, no matter how wondrous the Word of God is, it serves purpose to nobody without a prophet to translate and make sense of it."

"Well, now that sounds more like her," Dean opined, shaking his head.

"But Kevin already tried to translate it before, and it said nothing about saving Heaven, or... or creating more angels, or anything along these lines. It had those spells for closing the gates and expel everyone, and there's just so much you can write in a rock."

"That's because you don't understand how it works," Kevin said, smiling a bit smugly. "These tablets aren't just rocks, they're more like... books. You only see the cover and the back cover, but when I read them, each one of those rows of symbols is like an index of chapters. I can _feel_ the complete chapter that's inside. It's why it takes so long to translate what you perceive as perhaps only a dozen of symbols."

This explanation made the younger hunter shut up, quite impressed. He never even suspected that being a Prophet of the Lord implied that much work. No wonder both Kevin and Donatello had been so close to losing their minds, soul or not.

"Well, Kev. Tablet or not, I'm glad to see you again, buddy," Dean grinned. "Your old room is still available, you know."

"Will you really stay will us?" Jessica inquired, concerned. "Not that I mind, but shouldn't we call someone? Maybe your parents?"

There was undeniable sadness in her voice. She had just learned that her own parents were gone forever, no chance to reunite with them again. If this boy still had them, wouldn't it be better to stay with them? However, her question brought the same sadness upon Kevin's face.

"I'd... prefer not, please," he answered, crestfallen. "I know that I'm not to stay here indefinitely. I'm only living on borrowed time, and my mum... she already had to tell me goodbye too many times. As much as I miss her, I don't want to put her through that again."

Jessica bit her tongue, feeling guilty for spoiling what was obviously a joyous occasion. Even Kaia had sat down in a chair without uttering a word, not knowing what to make of the situation among these people that were barely less than strangers to her. Fortunately, someone else was bothered too by the sudden gloomy atmosphere, and took it upon himself to de-sink it.

"C'mon now, pretty boy, don't start crying out your eyes just yet," Balthazar chimed, confidently hanging an arm over Kevin's shoulders. "Human life is short! Your mum will be upstairs before you know it, and since souls are no longer isolated in Heaven, you'll be together soon enough."

"Was talking about my mother's death supposed to make me feel better?" the young prophet retorted, regaining a bit of his good mood despite the inappropriate joke.

"There you go, that's the spirit!" the rogue angel smirked, not abashed at all.

"My mother is in Heaven too," Jack spoke softly, trying to be supportive to the other boy. "I never met her, but if Heaven is really changing this much, maybe someday I'll be able too."

"I wish you luck," Kevin answered sincerely, before addressing the Winchesters and Castiel once more. "Now, as happy as I am to see you again, guys... will someone tell me already what is it that you need, for me to coming downstairs?"

At this, the brothers looked at each other, unsure.

"Uh, we... don't know?" Sam confessed. "I mean, it's not like we were actually expecting you or anything."

"What?" Kevin was confused. "But Donatello told Naomi that God was sure you'll be needing a prophet's help."

"Well, Chuck's the one knowing it all, not us," Dean snarked. "Perhaps there's something in the Angel or Demon Tablet that can be useful against our current disasters. By the way, Thaz, how's the raiding going?"

"Oh, yes, _that_... Okay, do you want to hear the good news or the bad news first?"

"Are there even good news? Because that would be strange."

"It's a matter of perspective, _Dee_ ," Balthazar got back at him, satisfied by the annoyed look on the hunter's face. "The good news are that until this moment, I've been able to locate two of Lucifer's crypts and five of Crowley's vaults, and in them were some ancient cult books, rare ingredients and more or less powerful weapons. All of them very valuable items, I promise you. The bad news, though? As much valuable as they are, I'm not sure if any of them could actually be useful against what you have coming at you."

"We. Us," Castiel reminded his brother, sternly. "What _we_ have coming at _us_. Do not forget you are part of the team."

"Yes, yes, I know... Exactly what I meant, don't get your panties in a twist."

"I do not wear female's undergarments, Balthazar," the seraph frowned.

"You have never? Oh Cas, you're so missing out. There's this garter thing that shows off your..."

"I DON'T THINK anyone wants to hear that, thank you very much?" Dean raised his voice, bemused by how a chat with the rogue angel could divert from its path so quickly.

"I second that," Sam added, coughing lightly. "Please, Balthazar, be mindful of the three children in the room and focus on the task at hand."

"You're just a bunch of prudes," Balthazar snorted. "But okay, I'll try to keep my salacious tongue tied, since I guess Dee doesn't really want anyone else thinking about Castiel's private parts."

The comment didn't seem to affect the other angel, but the hunter practically choked on his own saliva.

"Oh, does that mean you're finally together?" Kevin perked up, looking at Dean and Castiel. "Nice to know! Gosh, it was so uncomfortable being in a room with you two while you constantly eye-fucked each other."

"Tell me about it," Sam laughed.

"Well then, are you or not?"

Dean swallowed hard, embarrassed, the almost automatic negative ready in his tongue. But then he saw Cas glancing at him, and looking away. It was brief, no more than a second, but in that single second the hunter could read the angel like an open book. The disheartened hue in the blue eyes felt like a dagger in his chest. Castiel expected this, he expected to be denied by Dean, and in front of their family no less. He probably wouldn't even hold it against him later.

No, he was not going to. If he could face terrible monsters on a daily basis for a living, he could as hell man up and admit what was going on in front of the people he loved the most and that loved him back. Dean wasn't going to let his angel down again, not this time.

"We... we are, more or less," he stuttered, unsure how to voice it out, but reaching for Cas' hand in support. "We're not there yet, we're making it up as we go, but... yeah, I guess you could say we're together now."

The squeeze of the angel's hand made Dean look at him. There was so much emotion in the otherworldly cobalts that for a moment he felt like drowning.

"Dean," Castiel merely whispered, the most tender and grateful of smiles on his mouth.

"I'm not hiding nor running away anymore, Cas. Wherever this leads us, let's follow it."

The hunter turned to the other people in the room, preparing for the inevitable teasing and mocking that was bound to happen... but much to his surprise, everyone looked more bored than weirded out by his revelation.

"Tsk, it was about damn time."

And that pretty much summarized everyone's thoughts.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Rowena looked around once more, at the many unearthly books and items laid out for her to use on a table in the library, trying to convince herself that the (recently increased) inhabitants of the bunker weren't trying to laugh at her with a very stupid prank.

"You _have_ to be kidding me," she said, gritting her teeth. "There's no way you actually expect me to believe this."

"What's the matter?" Sam asked, not understanding.

"Really, you have to ask? And here I thought you were a literate boy," Rowena complained, rummaging through the books written in several mysterious languages. "Some of these, I can get: _Priesthood in Babylon_ , _Chants of the Anasazi_ , _The roots of the Inuit_ , _Ἡ_ _μεροσκόπειον*_ , _A dream of Tartessos_ , _Legends of the Tuatha Dé Danann_... But this, _Memories of a pilgrim in Shangri-La_? Or even better, a volume of the _Necronomicon_? If you wanted to discuss fictional literature with me, Sam, I could have brought my copy of the _Gilgamesh_."

Sam grunted under his breath, finally getting what the witch was talking about, but Castiel still didn't.

"Why would you dismiss those writings as fictional? They might be ancient from a human perspective, but that does not make them any less true."

"Cas, she means that the Necronomicon, for example, is an invention of H. P. Lovecraft, a horror writer," Kevin explained. "It's a book that can't exist. Something similar happens with Shangri-La, being a place imagined by James Hilton."

"Oh, the naivety of you humans. It never ceases to astound me," Balthazar interjected, stretching comfortably in an armchair. "You say that such a book as the Necronomicon cannot exist, and yet here you have it, but still refuse to accept reality."

"Oh, so now you want me to believe that..." Rowena picked a random book, taking a moment to translate the title in her head, " _Medical essay of the auriferous water fountain in Atlantis_ is to be taken seriously?"

"Yes," Castiel answered, completely serious and slightly disconcerted by the human's incomprehension. "Atlantis existed in the past, it is not a myth like you have come to believe. The same could be said about other lost locations like Lemuria, Shangri-La or the Land of Mu. All of the great oceans were home to one great civilization or another before it was obliterated."

"Who damn cares about that?" Dean grumbled, bored to the bone. "Lovecraft managed to open a door to Purgatory, right? So I'm gonna believe in whatever book Thaz has dug out. Real or fictional, what matters is if there's anything in these books that can help us stop AltMichael, kill Legion, or repopulate Heaven."

A heavy silence settled in the bunker for a moment, while Rowena sipped the tea that Jessica had served her and looked though the books again.

"I... honestly don't know," she admitted, lightly touching one of the tomes. "Some of these manuscripts are really old, they're not even made of paper. There are papyrus, and parchments... they must be treated very delicately. I can only imagine the invaluable knowledge that resides in them, but I can only help you with the ones about magic."

A collective sigh was heard.

"What is it exactly that they intend to do?" Kaia asked Jack quietly in the other corner of the room, both of them sitting on the floor, reading a book together and not really paying attention to what was going on.

"They want to find a way to go to the other world and stop the boss angel there, before he can arrive here," Jack whispered as to not disturb the grown-ups. "I could open a rift if you lent me your eyes again, but we need a plan to fight him. And it's not only AltMichael, because my no-father is also there."

"It doesn't sound easy."

"It's not."

Since it wasn't her business, Kaia continued reading beside the nephilim.

"We're at a dead end," Sam concluded, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "I guess it's time to follow Chuck's clue, because I have no idea what else to do."

"What do you mean?" Jessica asked. "What clue?"

"When we went to disconnect Donatello, his soul transmitted us some messages from God. Apparently, he said that ' _Sometimes you need to tempt fate'_ , quoting."

This brand new information made Balthazar immediately jump from his seat.

"What? No!" he almost beseeched. "Oh, please no. That woman was giving me the stinky eye since the little issue with the Titanic. I know it's difficult to believe, but I have a hunch that she won't be all that pleased seeing my charming self alive again."

"Well, that sucks for you, Thaz, but we don't have any other card to play here. So let's do it, let's summon Atropos. Can you do that, Rowena?"

"Yes, I know just the spell for that," the witch nodded. "As long as you have all the necessary ingredients for it, of course."

For once, luck seemed to be on their side. Among all the rare items and ingredients that Balthazar had found in the crypts and vaults, plus the more or less standard ones that the Men of Letters had stored in the bunker, they got everything they needed. Soon enough, one of the tables in the library had been moved away to make space and a summoning circle was drawn on the floor.

"Ω Ἀνάγκη, αρχή σας είναι υπέρτατη πάνω από όλα τα πράγματα…*"

Rowena chanted the long spell for half a minute, while she sprinkled the rims of the circle with the mix that she had concocted in a bowl.

"Ω Ἀισα Ἀνάγκη!*" she finished, raising her voice in a last note.

A sudden puff of dusty smoke rose from the circumference, making Kevin sneeze, but the little discomfort was worthy. There, in the middle of the circle, stood a very pissed off blonde fate.

"You…" she hissed, and for some reason focusing her smothering gaze on Balthazar. "What, in the name of everything that exists, have you done now?!"

"Why's everyone asking us that?" Dean childishly complained, remembering something similar from Kali.

"Hello there, sweetie!" Balthazar waved his hand awkwardly. "I bet you didn't expect to see me ever again, am I right?"

"Why are you not dead?" she demanded very gently, clutching her Book of Life until her fingers were pale. "I cut your thread years ago, and now it's spinning in my sister's wheel again!"

"Ouch, babe. You wound my poor heart."

"Regrettably, it doesn't seem to be enough to kill you again," Atropos turned her attention to the other angel. "I don't guess you would do me a favour and get rid of him again?"

"I… no, that is not to happen," Castiel apologized. "I deeply lamented killing my brother, actually, and I am very glad to have him back."

"Figures," Atropos snorted. "What do you want from me, then?"

"Uh, well… we were expecting that you could help us," Sam attempted carefully. "You see, I prayed to Chuck… I mean God, I prayed to God because of everything that's happening lately, and he more or less told us to call you. Hence the summoning."

"Help doing what?"

"Anything?" Jessica dared to talk to the powerful being. "It's not like we have an idea anyway."

"You," Atropos murmured at the other woman, but without the contempt she had shown to the rogue angel. "You're another whose thread has been respun."

Jessica swallowed hard, a bit afraid, and clung to Sam's arm. He hugged her in protection.

"Well then, can you help us or not?" Kevin asked impatiently.

"No," she fastly answered, not even blinking. "Anything else?"

"You are lying," Castiel accused her, getting a couple of steps closer to the circle. "You can, or at least you _know_ how to aid us in our predicaments, but you do not want. Why will you not help us?"

The fate tightened her lips and was quiet for a minute, looking at each of them earnestly. Her eyes narrowed, and for just a second they seemed to gloss over. Inhaling deeply, her voice almost quivered when she responded.

"Can you even understand what I see when I look at you?" she said. "Dots. Tiny, minuscule dots in a pointillism masterpiece. All dots are unique and important to complete the picture, but you few seem to consider yourselves above the others. When you averted the Apocalypse, what do you think were the consequences? You think to have saved people, which I won't deny, but it's also true that those who were destined to reach Heaven couldn't. And some people who were destined to survive didn't, because they were hurt by those that belonged in Hell or Purgatory. Listen to this, because as an agent of Destiny I know it well: you can affect it, but you _cannot_ erase Ananké. Apocalypse or not, free will or not… people will still die and people will still born until the end of eternity, because that's the Natural Order. Compared to that, you're just… dots."

Everyone fell silent after the quite meaningful speech from the fate, overwhelmed. It also reminded Dean of what Death (both original and Billie) had tried to teach him. Eventually, though, Castiel spoke to the blonde again, but this time in a lot more sensitive and caring manner.

"Atropos, I will not feign to have understood everything that you have said, since… I am just an angel, and as such I am tied too to the laws of Destiny. But as a much more knowledgeable being, I trust our Father, and he indicated us to seek your assistance. So please, do so. What is it that you know?"

Atropos stared at him, battling with herself, but in the end she gave in to his pleas.

"We are aware, my sisters and I, of your current tribulations. Sadly, there's nothing we can do about Heaven," she informed them. "God was the one to create you, and only him knows the formula. About the other Michael and the shedim… I might have an idea about what could be done, but I won't even start saying how risky and dangerous it will be. It's not like you're going to listen anyway."

"That we won't," Dean conceded, listening.

"For starters, do you even know how the universe came to be?"

"The Big Bang?" the Prophet of the Lord suggested.

"Imprecise but kinda accurate, in fact," Atropos nodded. "In the very beginning there was only the Empty, a space void of anything except energy. Sheer, intense energy. It expanded, it condensed, always transforming until successive reactions merged into two polar opposites forces: matter and antimatter; or, as you know them better as, God and Amara, the Light and the Darkness. That's when existence actually began, when the universe was born, understood as life. And then, immediately after, with life also appeared death. That was the very first law of the Natural Order, the _equilibrium_ , or everything would decompose and be sucked back into the Empty." The fate breathed in and out, letting her history lesson sink in. "The rest of the story, you pretty much know it. God and Amara shared the universe, but she destroyed everything that he created, so he imprisoned her and etc. But then, when he was free to create world after world, also God had to abide to the laws of the Natural Order. And thus he built the frontiers between said worlds."

Pause of effect, that was clearly one.

"The frontiers?" Castiel repeated, trying to keep up with the story. "You know how to access those frontiers?"

"I'm an agent of Destiny," she snarled, like it should be obvious. "God created us to watch over one of the many laws in the Natural Order. Of course we know about the frontiers and how to access them, but the fact is that we can't, because it's not our task. That was entrusted to others."

"Who?" Rowena voiced out the question in everyone's head.

Atropos looked intently at the two celestial beings in the room.

"Angels," she stated.

"That's not true," Balthazar retorted, exchanging confused looks with his brother. "We were tasked with watching over humanity, not over any frontiers."

"He speaks the truth," Castiel corroborated.

"He _doesn't_ know the truth," the fate corrected him. "Neither do you, apparently. After imprisoning the Darkness with the help of the archangels, God also created other kinds of angels, and used their power as pillars to sustain the frontiers between the worlds. He made exactly nine types of angels. How do you think you became a seraph, Castiel? It wasn't something out of the blue. There was a precedent."

"Ok, wait a second, let me check if I'm getting this right," Dean talked, befuddled. "So your idea to stop AltMichael from coming here is to call upon these other angels' powers and… reset the structure of the universe or something?"

"Not the whole universe! That's impossible, since there are no actual frontiers in the universe. Just the ones to your world," Atropos specified, shaking her head. "Close the doors to this world so AltMichael can't cross. Yes, that's exactly my idea. Either leave it, or take it."

* * *

 **Greek translations:**

 _Ἡμεροσκόπειον -_ the city of Hemeroskopeion (different spellings accepted).

 _Ω Ἀνάγκη, αρχή σας είναι υπέρτατη πάνω από όλα τα πράγματα… -_ Oh Anánke, arché sas eínai ypértate páno apó óla ta prágmata... (Oh Inevitability/Necessity, your authority is supreme over all things...)

 _Ω Ἀισα Ἀνάγκη! -_ Oh, Aisa Anánke!

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	20. Chapter 19

_In case you don't know, Supernatural messed up the angelic hierarchy_ _._

* * *

 **Chapter 19**

Atropos' words floated heavily in the room, the suggestion being so… so utterly extravagant that there was no mind that could assimilate it fast enough. To say that it left everyone dizzy with the implications would be an understatement.

"Ach, and here I considered myself an ambitious witch," Rowena laughed daintily. "Cannot deny it sounds like an exciting adventure, though."

One by one, all the inhabitants of the bunker were eventually back to their senses.

"Atropos, is… is what you are proposing truly feasible?" Castiel doubted.

"Of course it is. If it was done before, it can be redone again. Aren't you the one who told me to believe in God's instructions?"

"Yes, but…" the seraph stammered, his eyes darting around. "This might be an exploit too ludicrous even for us."

"Really? Compared to what?" the blonde fate was more than a little surprised. "To avoiding the Apocalypse, twice? To open Purgatory and swallowing the leviathans? To assist in the birth of a nephilim? To release the Darkness?"

Castiel ended shutting up, since there was nothing he could say to defend himself and his friends against the barely veiled reproaches.

"You needed a plan, so here you have it. It's your choice now. Free will, right?"

"Okay, sweetie. We got it," Balthazar said, all charming smile in place. "A foolhardy plan is still better than no plan at all. Can you stop nagging us now?"

"Nobody's nagging you," the woman was clearly annoyed. "But even if I were, why would anyone comply to you?"

"Because if you continue bitching so sexily in front of me, I'm going to ask you out on a date!"

Not even a single emotion betrayed the fate's face, light fury still shining in her eyes, but slowly a very flattering blush dared to rise to her cheeks.

"Just because you ask, it doesn't mean that I have to accept."

"Oh, sweetie." Balthazar was enjoying a lot flirting with the stick-up-her-ass agent of Destiny. "I can be extremely persuasive."

It was obvious to anyone that the poor fate was already seething, and very likely imagining some kind of painful massacre with the silver-eyed angel in the starring role.

"Guys, please!" Sam interrupted, being the voice of reason amidst the impending, _fateful_ debacle. "Do you really think this is the moment for that?"

"Can I go already?" Atropos inquired instead, looking viciously at the rogue. "I can't cut a thread until Lachesis has measured it."

"No, wait!" Dean shouted, raising a hand like trying to stop her from vanishing into thin air. "These frontier angels, where are they? How do we summon them?"

"Shouldn't you know that?" Atropos directed the question to Castiel. "The anunnaki should be mentioned in the Angel Tablet, since it pertains to the nature of angels. And you already got yourselves a prophet, as I see."

"The anunnaki?" Castiel repeated. "But they…"

"I know who they are," Jessica perked up unexpectedly. "I studied them at mythology in college. They are ancient deities from the valley of Mesopotamia. There's also this theory about them lending a hand in human evolution."

"That is not a theory," Castiel explained. "The anunnaki were a group of angels that God appointed as teachers to humanity. They were in all those grand civilizations that I mentioned earlier, like Atlantis or Lemuria. But over time, they were called back because humans needed to learn by themselves. And then, they disappeared."

"They didn't disappear," Atropos shook her head. "They merely returned to only serve their original task when their teachings were deemed to be wasted. Those nine angels, the anunnaki, were the ones to establish the hierarchy in Heaven. Each one of them served as the apex of a choir: seraphim, cherubim, thrones, dominions, virtues, authorities, principalities, archangels and angels properly speaking. And in the same way they gave Heaven its structure, they also give this world its own."

For a moment, nobody said anything. Doubts or not, it almost felt like the plan had already set itself.

"Guess I have work to do now," Kevin commented, cracking his neck. "Stiff back and muscle cramps, here we go again. You better bring me chips, guys!"

"You know you can feel at home, Kevin," Sam smiled. "Just like before, or… better. Yeah, let's aim for better."

"Well, then?" the blonde fate insisted, irked and pointing to the floor. "Do you mind?"

"Ah, sure." Dean went to the rim of the circle and smeared with a foot some of the white chalk they had used to draw it. "There you go, lady. And thanks."

Just huffing as a last sign of acknowledgement, Atropos disappeared in a cloud of golden dust.

"Oh, she's so into me," Balthazar smirked.

"And you're so into delusion," Rowena whispered to herself, hiding her grin behind her cup of tea because it was evident that the angel could hear her perfectly.

Castiel and Jessica started to clean and put everything back in place, when suddenly Dean cursed loudly.

"Dammit!" he smacked his forehead. "And she's already gone!"

"What's the matter?"

"Fuck, Sammy. We didn't ask her about Legion."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

After Atropos left, the people in the bunker took to other activities, since a gemstone they had used in the summoning needed a couple of days to recharge. Balthazar had flown back to Heaven to inform Naomi of the new plan and see if she had anything to add, or if she had maybe located the human whose soul he was keeping; Dean was in the garage, tending to his Baby and trying to distract himself for a little; Sam and Jessica had gone to visit Mildred in Oak Park and do some grocery shopping; Rowena had already been taken home, declining the invitation to stay in the bunker even if they had to call the blonde fate again; and Castiel was reading a book in the library, in company of the three teenagers, who were doing the same.

"I'm not sure I understand what this book talks about," Jack frowned adorably at a page in _The origin of species_. "This man says that everything is the result of biologic selection through many generations, humans included, but I thought God was who had created everything. Sam told me this. It's what the Bible says. Was this man lying?"

"Oh, pal. You don't want to start one of those topics, I assure you," Kevin warned him sympathetically, surrounded by dictionaries and minding the Angel Tablet. "There are people out there who take very seriously defending religion against science, or the opposite. And I don't mean it in a good way."

"No, Jack. Darwin was not lying," Castiel looked up from his _Sweet bird of youth_. "He was mostly right in his hypotheses, but he did not know all the facts, and thus he established them chronologically wrong."

"How would his hypotheses be chronologically right?"

"As far as I can guess," the angel speculated, "God was not only creative but also curious about what he would do, and what would come from it. He did not create all the animals at once, for example. He dropped just a single cell in the primal ocean, and waited to see what would happen. Over thousands of years, that cell became fishes, amphibians, reptiles, birds, and finally mammals. So, in a sense, it is correct to state that he created the animals, and also that they evolved, like Darwin determined."

"Oh, I understand," Jack smiled happily.

"Where do the dinosaurs fit in that explanation?" Kevin asked jokingly, not going to miss this chance of discussing existentialism with a celestial being.

"Dinosaurs suffered extinction when Michael and Lucifer were playing toss, and Michael missed a comet. Or at least, that is what Gabriel always swore. But knowing him, I do not discard the possibility that somehow he was to blame too."

"What about Adam and Eve?" the nephilim asked. "The Bible said that God created them, but this man insists that humankind descends from apes."

"There are fossils in different stages of evolution all around the world," Kevin added.

"That is a mixed truth too," Castiel explained indulgently. "I do not know why, but God must have been specially fond of apes. When they appeared, he took them as a model for experimentation, seeking how much further he could improve them. Humans as you are now were the final product, Adam and Eve. But no masterpiece is achieved without some previous drafts, like is the _Homo habilis_ , _Homo erectus_ or _Homo antecessor_."

"People in this world are strange," Kaia spoke for the first time, a Voltaire in her hands.

The three males looked at her, politely waiting to hear something else about such a statement, but the dreamwalker didn't seem prone to elaborate.

"What makes you say that?" Kevin finally asked.

This time Kaia looked up, glancing briefly at her companions before immersing herself again in the book.

"In my world there were disputes too, but not like the ones I saw through my piece's eyes. We fought for protection, for rights or for honour; but here you don't fight against outside menaces: you fight among yourselves. You kill each other only for daring to have a different like or opinion. I know what terror is, and still I find you terrifying."

"Is that opinion yours, or from the original Kaia?" Jack inquired.

"A little bit of both, I suppose," the avatar girl admitted, after considering her answer for a moment.

"Kaia," Castiel talked to her rather apologetically. "I did not have the chance to get acquainted with the first you, but I know she did not have an easy life. I know she suffered a lot, but I still believe there must have been something that gave her some sort of reprieve, or she would not have survived as long as she did."

She tensed for a second, but looking up again and locking her eyes with the angel's, she nodded slightly.

"There was," she confessed with a tiny smile. "She liked philosophy, and poetry. One for dealing with the bad things, and the other to convince herself there was something better out there."

"Hey, now that I think about it," the prophet interjected, having a sudden realization. "If we reset the dimensional frontiers, you won't be able to go back home. Neither could you travel to those other worlds that your pieces were sent to."

"I know. But I already said that nobody would accept me back after failing my trial. That's not how things work in our society. And between this world and the others accessible to me, there's not really much of a difference. There's still blood everywhere. But believe me, this may not be the best one, but it's neither the worst."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Two days later, Sam and Jessica were in the library too, but the mood was silent and heavy. They were alone together preparing the summoning again, the hunter drawing sigils on the floor and his fiancée putting in place the other items, like gemstones and candles. He wanted to say something, anything, but wasn't sure how to be supportive with what was roaming in her mind.

"Sam," she eventually called him, sitting hunched in a chair. "I don't know what to do. I'm thankful to Mildred for her offer, but it caught me off guard."

"Precious, that depends completely on you," Sam answered gently, trying to reassure her. "There's no rush, you don't have to take a decision now when you're still mourning. And I'm sure Mildred thinks the same, she just wanted to offer help in case you needed it because she's a kind and perceptive person."

"So you think I should accept and let her adopt me?"

"Jess, this isn't about me, this is about you having a life again. That's why we went looking for your parents in the first place, right? I can only tell you," Sam spoke sincerely, "that in terms of paperwork, it's easier to falsify some documents if there's a real person to attach you to. But either way, whatever you choose, we'll find a way. And I repeat, it doesn't have to be now if you don't feel ready yet."

Jessica was about to say something else, but then the lights began to flicker, and a few seconds after Balthazar and Rowena appeared behind the couple, in the war room. Kevin, who had gone earlier to eat in the kitchen, also returned, still chewing something.

"Good afternoon, my dearies," Rowena greeted politely.

"Balthazar," Sam grunted. "Could you please stop messing with the lightbulbs every time you arrive? We know you do it on purpose."

"I so do not!" the angel defended himself. "Have you any idea of how many layers of protection I must trespass to come here? Almost as many as you wear. This place is like a damn onion! The least I deserve is a few sparks."

"I don't remember Cas ever complaining about it."

"Because Cas is a sap willing to put up with everything and anything, as long as he gets to eye-fuck your brother."

Sam would've liked to reply to that, reply with whatever, but sadly the truth in such a statement was too great to allow it, so he had to bite his tongue. There was also the fact that right then Dean and Castiel joined them, probably alerted of the witch and the other angel's presence through the failing electricity, and his older brother wouldn't appreciate being the topic of conversation.

"Ok, are we ready? I hope all of you have written down whatever you'd like to ask Atropos, because I don't think that woman will go easy on us for summoning her again. I'm not gonna risk my neck a third time."

"Please, Dee. You underestimate her allure way too much."

"Listen, Thaz, whatever floats your boat, it's what I've always said. Less competition for you, so be happy."

"Where are Jack and Kaia?" Jessica asked.

"They are in Jack's bedroom, watching a film on the laptop about a little bear addicted to honey," Castiel responded, tilting his head. "But even if I understand the appeal of honey, I do not think that such behaviour should be encouraged and made fun of, specially if it is aimed at a child audience."

"Yeah, I can't imagine that anyone with that much of a sweet tooth would be a good model role," Sam chuckled, glancing at the other hunter.

Dean pulled a face at his little brother, but didn't say anything. Instead, he turned to the angel.

"They are in his bedroom alone? Cas, maybe it's time that you give Jack the talk."

"The talk?" he repeated, confused. "What talk?"

"Don't ask me what talk! I thought you were culture savvy now."

"I mostly am, but sometimes I still have difficulties discerning the exact meaning of your many euphemisms."

"I was under the impression that technically Jack is barely six months old," Rowena supported. "Despite his teen visage, isn't that a bit too soon?"

"I don't think age really factors here," Dean retorted. "That Kaia is who knows how many centuries old, and still got stuck in time as a teenager. She probably needs the talk too, and better be safe than sorry. So good luck, Cas."

"I do not even know what you are talking about yet."

A choir of suffocated laughs erupted around the oblivious angel, effectively dissipating the tense atmosphere. After that, Rowena chanted her Greek spell again and sprinkled the rim of the circle like she did the previous time. And once more, the blonde fate stood before them.

"I can't believe this," the irate agent of Destiny said. "What do you want now? If you didn't like what I proposed, then too bad, because there's nothing else for me to suggest."

"No no no no!" the younger Winchester jumped to say, attempting to placate the woman. "It's not that, not at all! We thank you, we really thank you for that plan. But before, you told us that you also might have an idea about what to do with the shedim, remember? Legion. We… we kinda forgot that point two days ago, so we had to summon you again. Deeply sorry, but it was out of necessity."

"This is what happens when you don't ask phone numbers to important people," Rowena whispered in confidence to Jessica, patting her arm. "Believe me, I can relate."

Atropos was still annoyed, but Sam's explication seemed to work, because she calmed down quite a bit.

"The shedim aren't easy preys, which I know it's an understatement, considering that you're hunters," she confirmed, tapping a finger on her Book of Life. "They're vicious creatures and each one of them has an ability, something that makes them extremely bothersome and hard to defeat. Legion is just one of them, it wouldn't really make much of a difference if any other had escaped instead of it."

"You don't say," Dean snorted. "That thing disintegrated the last Prince of Hell like it was nothing."

"In Legion's specific case, I don't think you're in any capacity to kill it. Your best shot would be to imprison it again."

"How?" Sam inquired. "Jack could probably open the jail again, but more shedim would get out instead. And Legion isn't going to stand still, waiting for us to push it back inside."

"Nobody said it had to be the same jail," Atropos grimaced at their blockhead-ness. "Hell is full of them, or even Heaven. Maybe Purgatory? Whatever, just use your imagination!"

"We're not unleashing that thing into Purgatory. No way," Dean immediately denied. "They already have enough fun there containing the creatures from the Black Lagoon."

"Then what about the Cage?"

In less than a second, the mood in the library turned gloomy and sour. The Cage… Lucifer's original suite, where now the archangel Michael in his Adam vessel was trapped; and where the third Winchester brother, who had fallen prisoner of Heaven's schemes, was trapped too. Everyone knew the story, more or less, everyone except apparently the guardian of Ananké.

"We can't open the Cage," Sam informed her, clenching his jaw. "First of all, after Crowley's demise, there's nobody else that we can ask to take us to Hell and guide us across. And second, we still have the other three Horsemen rings, but not Death's. And I'm pretty sure that Billie isn't going to care about our problems, with or without God."

"You know what? _I_ don't care about your problems, and still I'm here, dealing with my fair part." Atropos' patience was running thin, which was clear to everyone. "You wanted help? Ideas? I gave you two: invoke the anunnaki, and send Legion to the Cage. The Angel and Demon Tablet are both in your possession, so you have the necessary tools. What else do you expect from me, to do the job for you? Because people out there still have destinies to fulfill while I chat idly with you."

"You know, sweetie, my offer remains, about removing that sti-…"

"Balthazar, don't you dare finish that sentence," the fate glared at him.

"No," Dean muttered, and then bellowed, raging. "Damn fucking no, we're not sending that aborted thing with Adam! To hell with you and your fucking plan!"

Not managing to keep calm in the fate's presence, the older hunter kicked a chair in his way out and ran from the room.

"Dean!" Sam called, going after him. "Dean, wait!"

When both Winchesters were out of sight, the rest of the people looked confused at each other, unsure of how to react after such an exit. It was only after a full minute that the young prophet finally asked:

"Did he say Adam? What does he have to do with this?"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Several hours later, Dean was still coped in his bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed. Elbows on knees, forehead resting on his crossed hands, and eyes closed in silent brooding. He hadn't talked with anyone since storming out of the library, but now someone knocked on his door. He didn't bother with an answer, and after a moment of hesitation, the person on the other side took it upon himself to be allowed in.

"Hey, Dean," Sam said quietly, entering and closing the door again. "Atropos is gone already since a while, in case you want to come out. And no matter how much confidence Balthazar has on his flirting skills, I don't think we'll summon her again. Like, ever."

The other hunter didn't answer. Sam sat on the other edge of the bed, and leaned backwards until their backs were touching, supporting each other.

"I'm not happy either with what Atropos suggested, you know, because…"

"We're not doing it, Sammy," Dean finally grumbled, still not moving. " _I'm_ not doing it."

"I know, I know. Believe me, I don't want to do it any more than you."

Dean breathed deeply, rubbing his eyes.

"Do you think…?" he tried to ask. "Do you think there's still something of him left down there? Something that we could save?"

"I don't know," Sam answered, forlorn. "For all the time that my soul was there… look in what state it was returned to me. Adam has been there a lot longer than that. And truth be told, I can't even make up my mind about what would be worse: if there's nothing of him anymore, or if actually there is."

"Maybe… maybe Michael… he didn't do to him what Lucifer did to you. He's still a winged dick, sure, but he's not the one called the Devil. And we've been told he has gone insane! Perhaps he left Adam alone."

Sam didn't answer, partly because he didn't dare to get his and Dean's hopes up, and partly because either way they weren't able to find it out. A few minutes of silence passed.

"You know, there have been times… times when I was just this close to beg Cas to go to the Cage and retrieve him. But for some reason that I don't know why, in the end I never did it."

"Of course you know why," Sam replied with a little smile that his brother couldn't see, but could hear in his voice. "It's because Cas would do anything for you, like he has done so many times, but it wouldn't be fair to him and you know it. When he pulled you out of Hell, his whole garrison had to fight their way in; to pull me from the Cage, he had to join forces with the King of Hell, and still, he and Crowley only barely managed to get my body out through a crack. Asking Cas to go alone and single-handedly rescue Adam would be unbelievably cruel… because you know that he'd try."

Dean snorted, but didn't correct him.

"What we're going to do then, Sammy? We can't let Legion roam freely."

"The idea of imprisoning it again isn't bad. Just like Atropos said, Hell is full of jails, it doesn't have to be the Cage. If we could only find a demon willing to work with us in this and let us into Hell, maybe this would be one less problem off the list. I'm sure Rowena knows one spell or another for that."

"Or perhaps Kevin will find something else in the Demon Tablet."

"True, there's also that," Sam agreed.

Another minute of silence, that was broken by a not so shy growl from Dean's stomach.

"You hungry?" the younger Winchester chuckled, getting up. "You should come out already and have dinner with the rest of us, Dean. Jess told me she was going to make _focaccia_."

"What the hell is a phookacha?"

Sam just laughed merrily down the hallway, allowing his brother a few minutes to recompose himself. But when Dean was alone, a sudden idea shone in his mind. He glanced suspiciously at his nightstand.

It wasn't possible, he knew it wasn't. He already had spent it for Cas, his only wish, and he would do it again without a doubt. Castiel came back, and that was what mattered. And yet… he hadn't had the pearl with him at that moment. Dean had poured his heart into that prayer, and it had taken an hour to show results, but the angel came back to life, back to him. And that was the end of the story.

And yet… that nagging doubt in the bottom of his mind wouldn't leave him alone. He had to know.

Sitting again on the edge of the bed, Dean opened the drawer of his nightstand, and started rummaging through it. The keys, the hot magazine, the credit cards, the lube… he really should tidy up some day. At least Cas had already disposed of the four-days-old sandwich under the bed. Oh, there it was, what he was looking for.

Wait a second. There-it-was.

Amara's gift, her teardrop. The black pearl, it was still there! How was it possible? Didn't it get spent after reviving Cas? Unless… unless the seraph's return was unrelated to the mystical tiny sphere. Castiel had said it himself, that he was thrown out of the Empty after being awaken by Jack and annoying the Cosmic Entity to no end. It certainly didn't sound like Amara had anything to do with it. Did that mean he had another chance to make a wish?

Holy shit.

"Amara," Dean whispered, taking the small jewel in his hands and joining them in prayer, closing his eyes. "It's Dean. I have the pearl with me this time, right here. I… I believed you had sent Cas back to me, for which I was extremely grateful, but… either I'm misunderstanding how this works, or it wasn't your doing. If it's the latter, then please, _please_ , I beg you, take Adam out of the Cage. Let him… let him go home, or Heaven, whatever. Anywhere is better than there. So this is my wish, which I hope you can fulfill. Take my brother out of the Cage."

Dean breathed heavily for a while, his heart beating fast. As usual, nothing indicated that his wish had been listened, the pearl still intact in his hands. He was starting to wonder if there was actually any sign to expect.

He got up when his stomach growled again, demanding food, and put the pearl back in the drawer. It was only then that a frightening thought became clear in his mind. Adam, and Michael. The last time the brothers saw each other, the archangel had taken possession of the boy, and now Dean had pleaded for his liberation. What if, by doing so, he had also released Michael?

Fuck, what had he done?

* * *

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	21. Chapter 20

_More than 80,000 words and I finally reach the plot twist of the summary.._ _. This must be some kind of pitiful record ^^;_

* * *

 **Chapter 20**

Some days after, heavy eye bags started to show on Kevin's face. The young prophet was doing his best deciphering the Angel Tablet, trying to find a clue about the nine choirs in Heaven or anything related to summoning the angels standing at their apexes. He was usually the first to get up in the mornings and the last to go to bed at night.

"Hey, kiddo. Don't overdo yourself," Dean mumbled dragging himself across the library with his eyes barely open. "Or you'll need to wear make-up just to go outside."

"Look who's talking," Kevin snickered back. "When was the last time you stood in front of a mirror?"

"I think a couple of days ago, don't need to be constantly reminded of my pretty face. There's just… something in my mind keeping me on edge lately."

"You don't say. You've been searching cases like a mad man that has lost his favourite dog."

"Yeah, very funny, Kev. You know you're allowed to sleep every night, right?" the hunter said, entering the kitchen and looking for a bite of pie. "How's the translating of the tablet going?"

"It's coming along slowly. I wish these damn things could speak to me in English and not in some ancient, dead language. Then it would be a lot easier to understand what exactly I'm writing, and to know sooner if it's what we need or not."

"Kev, we all know you're doing everything you can," Dean patted the boy's back, coming back from the kitchen with breakfast for both of them in a tray. "Nobody will blame you for taking a break."

"You don't know that," the young prophet retorted. "What if I take too long, and Lucifer regraces enough for AltMichael to arrive?"

"It still wouldn't be your fault. Plus, he also needs the most holy blood, and apparently he was very lucky getting some of Jess' because humanity over there is about to go extinct," Dean reassured him, looking at all the work the prophet had already done. "What's all of this?"

"Translated parts of the Angel Tablet, since I'm focusing on this one now. Castiel read them for me to spare me the added work of translating them again into a modern language." And then, Kevin smiled proudly. "After several interesting but more or less currently useless prologues, I think I've finally stumbled upon the chapter we need."

Dean's hand stopped in mid-air, holding the mug of coffee that he had intended to drink before the news were broken to him. Eyes wide open, he stared at the prophet dumbfounded.

"You're kidding," he said, but Kevin shook his head in a negative motion. "Really? Are you serious?"

"Completely serious."

"That's awesome!" the hunter barked, grinning. "What did you find? How much long will it take you?"

"Hey, what happened with taking a break?" Kevin joked.

"Breaks are for wimps. You're a champ, Kev!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Hours later that same day, the angel Balthazar was standing once again in front of Naomi, in Heaven, and not very happily informing her of what was going on down on Earth.

"Kevin Tran has translated a few disjointed bits of the Angel Tablet, but since time is precious, he stopped the moment it was clear they weren't what is needed right now, and continued to the next."

"I see. What were those disjointed bits about?" Naomi asked professionally, crossing her fingers.

"I'm… not really sure? Something about amnesty for prisoners (which poor Gadreel could have benefited from), the sharing of clouds, and vacating someone's heaven in case of necessity. I didn't ask for details, but you already know there's that spell for closing Heaven's gates and that other one about expelling everyone. They're trying to summon the anunnaki from wherever they are, isn't that enough?"

"I'm not so convinced," she sighed, looking almost worried.

Balthazar frowned, his curiosity piqued. The current boss knew something, of that he was sure, something that she wasn't sharing with the rest of the class.

"What is it, Naomi? What do you know?"

The woman looked at him, stern, deciding if disclose or not her concerns to the rogue. After a brief hesitation, she leaned back on her chair and spoke.

"There's something in this that I don't like, but I can't pinpoint exactly what. When Mr. Redfield arrived in Heaven, God's touch on him was unquestionable. We're following the instructions given to us to the best of our capacity, same as Castiel and the Winchesters with the Fates. But there are so many changes… and most of them I can't see the finality of," she rubbed her forehead, displeased. "Perhaps it's been too long since I actually obeyed orders from someone, instead of giving them myself."

"What are your doubts about?" Balthazar asked, confused.

"In the past, there were so many of us that one angel more or one angel less didn't make any difference. It was easy to disappear in the crowd, as you very well know," she reproached her brother. "But now? Each one of us is like a beacon in the night. We can't get lost, we can't go unnoticed. Only a dozen of us still remain, at least to my knowledge. So tell me, where are those supposed anunnaki that they pretend to summon? Because they certainly aren't in Heaven."

Balthazar looked upwards, his eyes wandering, realizing what Naomi was actually trying to say.

"You don't feel them. You don't think they're still around."

"Precisely. Do you?"

"No, I don't feel them either," Balthazar admitted. "Truth be told, I haven't even stopped to consider it, but you're right. However, the frontiers are still in place. Doesn't that mean the obvious answer?"

Naomi shook her head, disappointed by the silver-eyed angel carelessness.

"You're dealing with something bigger than what it seems at first sight, Balthazar. Don't mistake it for a game."

"Yes, yes, I know… I'll deliver your very caring and generous message to them, don't worry. Now, I'm expected to show up in a party in Shanghai, so if you could just tell me why you wanted me to come back again? We've already gossiped enough, in my opinion."

The woman immediately snapped back into a professional attitude, straightening her back and raising her chin.

"Surely you're aware of the several security breaches we've had in the last decade or so," she said, annoyed. "It all started when that human Ash ascended and bugged all systems in Heaven, connecting several individual heavens to his own whenever he pleased. I'm sure he would laugh in our faces with the current development of things if he could."

Balthazar didn't interrupt her, but feigned looking at an inexistent watch on his wrist to indicate her to speed up the matter.

"But he's not the only one. In the last couple of days, since your friends apparently decided to follow the Fates' advice and call upon the anunnaki, there have been another infraction. This one, however, comes from Earth."

"Well, people still pray to God, you know. Many poor fellows didn't get the memo that Father took off on indefinite holiday."

"This wasn't a pray. The infraction happened through angel radio."

"Say what again?" Balthazar exclaimed, genuinely surprised. "Someone from Earth has tried to contact Heaven? Are you sure it wasn't some stronger-than-usual séance?"

"No. The human in case spoke Enochian, and wasn't trying to contact anyone. Rather, it was _calling_ for someone."

"For who?"

"Castiel."

Balthazar bit his tongue, attempting to smother the laugh that was bubbling within him.

"Go figures. Everything strange is always related to Cas one way or another."

"That's why I called you. We've located the human, so you'll go to meet them to see what's happening and what they want."

"What?! No way!" he protested. "I've just finished raiding the whole planet like a mole searching worms, I escorted Kevin Tran downstairs, and I'm still carrying that unidentified soul with me for who knows how long. Since when am I everyone's errand boy?"

"Since you were resurrected as the only angel still capable of flight, Balthazar," Naomi smirked, not one to be deterred. "So go, and make honourable use of it."

The rogue angel would have complained a lot more, but as luck served him, at that exact moment another one of the aforementioned breaches in angel radio rang in Heaven's office. Answering Naomi's awaiting smile with a grunt, Balthazar left, grouching to himself.

"Go there, do that… They're exploiting me, I tell you. No wonder Gabriel, oh Messenger of God, got the fuck out the moment he could."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Oh, shit."

That was the very specific and very elaborated opinion from one Dean Winchester to the news that had just been revealed to them, but well, it wasn't as if the rest of the people in the bunker had anything better to say anyway.

"Are you sure you translated this well, Kevin, Cas? No offense," Sam asked.

"I've read and translated the whole spell thrice," the young prophet shrugged apologetically. "One in Etruscan, one in proto-Indoeuropean, and one in Tocharian. The three times the ingredients and procedure were the same, as Castiel can confirm."

"Yes, I do," the angel confirmed gravely, holding in his hand three pieces of paper and placing them on the table. "The text is identical in all the translations."

Everyone looked at the spell that the Prophet of the Lord had extracted from the Angel Tablet, supposedly able to invoke the anunnaki. Only five ingredients: a nail of a manticore, mother-of-pearl powder, leaves of a hamadryad, a fang of Quetzalcoatl… and a human soul.

"Well, look at that," Rowena sighed frustrated. "It can never be as simple as triton eye and mandrake root with you, can't it? Be grateful that at least the other four ingredients were found by your other angel buddy in my son's treasure chests."

"Who the hell even comes up with these recipes?" Dean cursed, pacing around.

"Do you think this is why God sent another soul back with Donatello?" Jack asked, sitting on a chair next to a quiet Kaia. "Perhaps because we would need one for this?"

All of his family members shut up, looking at each other hesitantly. They hadn't thought of that.

"It is possible," Castiel spoke first, dubious. "But we cannot be certain so easily."

"But it's the only option we might have," Sam contradicted, uncomfortable. "We can't simply ask someone to sacrifice their soul to this. At least this soul, whoever it is, it's already dead."

"We don't know that, Sammy. Donny was doing pretty good and alive until we crossed his path again."

"Yeah, ok. But what else do we have now?"

Dean and Castiel exchanged looks, but neither knew what else to say. Groaning inwardly, the older hunter eventually gave in.

"Ok, fine. Call Balthazar and let's do this. It's almost dinner time and I'm getting hungry."

"Hey, I'm not any happier with this than you are, guys," Sam said, before closing his eyes and slightly bowing down his head. "I pray now to the angel Balthazar. Balthazar, we're ready to do the summon, but we think you're carrying with you the last ingredient we need. Can you come back, please? I mean, like right now?"

After a few seconds, the lightbulbs started to flicker as always, announcing the rogue's arrival. However, when he finally appeared, his nervous demeanour was a stark contrast to his usual confidence.

"Angel Balthazar, reporting for duty. What can I do for you?"

"We need the soul in your custody, Balthazar," Castiel informed him. "It seems to be part of the spell, and perhaps also the reason why God sent it to us."

"The soul? You need the soul?" the silver-eyed angel blabbered. "For what exactly?"

"We, uh… we need to add it to the spell. Apparently it's like the battery, the energy source to activate it and make it work," Sam explained.

"Oh, I… I see. But the fact is… well, you know… I-I don't really think you should use it like that?"

"What?" Dean grunted. "What are you talking about? Thaz, what have you done with the soul?"

"Nothing!" Balthazar shrieked, raising his hand in defense. "Absolutely nothing, the soul is perfectly fine. It's just that yesterday I was called back to Heaven again, and… I met someone that had been, hum, spying on us, I guess? And this person insisted on talking to you before you do anything drastic. And this summoning clearly fits in that category."

"What person?" Jessica asked, curious. "Who is it?"

The rogue angel sighed deeply.

"This is being too much drama for me to explain properly. Give me a moment, I'll bring her to you so you can deal with each other. I really feel like I'm doing extra hours."

Said and done, Balthazar flew out. A couple of minutes later the lightbulbs went poltergeist again, but this time the angel didn't come alone. With a hand on her shoulder for transportation purposes, a woman stood beside him.

"Hello, Castiel," she greeted him softly. "Dean, Sam."

The seraph remained quiet, flabbergasted and speechless. He had been waiting for her, waiting attentively to hear her call like he had promised, but she never called. And now she was here, in front of him again, just like the last time. Her face a bit more tired and her hair a bit longer, but unmistakably the same woman that not long ago had intended to kill him.

"Lily Sunder," he whispered emotively.

"What are you doing here?" Dean stepped forward, protective of his angel. "Have you changed your mind and intend to finish what you started?"

"Nothing like that, Dean Winchester. Rest assured."

The hunter didn't look convinced, but there was no sign nor intent of battle in her, so he gave her the benefit of doubt.

"Balthazar has told us there was someone spying on Heaven," Sam finally spoke too. "Was it you?"

"More or less, yes. I can't access as high as Heaven, but I've been tuning into angel radio to remain aware of what the angels were up to. That's why, the moment I heard that you intended to summon the Nine Choirs apexes, I let myself be detected."

"How do you even know about the anunnaki?" Kevin asked, impressed.

"I've been studying angels all my life, which has been quite long due to the use of their magic. I also was married to one. Sorry to sound so immodest, but there's little I don't know about them."

"Why are you here, Lily?" Castiel inquired gently.

She advanced slowly towards him, and took his hands between hers. She smiled a very sad smile.

"I always took my chances, for better or worse. This is no different," she answered, very calm. "The spell you want to use needs the sacrifice of a human soul, and… haa, I'm here to offer mine."

"No," he denied automatically, frowning. "No, you can't."

"I certainly can, and I do. Castiel, it's been more than a year since we met, more than a year since I accomplished my revenge and allowed myself to stop. But what I lost, it can never come back to me."

"If… if you mean your daughter, how old was she?" Castiel gripped tight her hands. "To my understanding, Heaven is different now. It is changing. Perhaps… perhaps there might be a possibility for you to reunite with her."

"Castiel," Lily denied forlornly. "It's not about that. I can barely feel anything anymore, and the little that remains is only grief and sorrow. My soul is damaged, holey and incomplete. We both know it wouldn't be accepted in Heaven. But even if it was, I hope you understand if I don't want to spent my afterlife in the company of angels, as few as they remain. And I lie to myself into believing that I don't deserve Hell. I'm no monster, so Purgatory isn't for me either? So you see, whenever I die, there'll be no place for me."

"Lily…"

"Damaged as it is, my soul is still a soul. It's better to vanish forever like this instead of becoming a vengeful spirit trapped in the Veil. Please, Castiel."

Moved to the core, Castiel raised her hands to his mouth and kissed them tenderly.

"Every time I think to have witnessed the bottom of humanity's bravery and generosity, one of you always prove me wrong."

"This hardly could be considered generous," Lily couldn't help to chuckle. "I simply don't want to keep going on."

Lily then introduced herself to the rest of the people in the room merely out of politeness, since in a matter of minutes they would say goodbye to her forever.

"Are you really sure you want to do this, my dear?" Rowena asked her, while grinding the other four ingredients in a bowl made of turquoise.

"Yes, I am."

"Well, I'd like to wish you good luck, but given the circumstances…"

"It's alright, Ms. Rowena. I understand."

An hour later, while the witch had been preparing the concoction, both angels had drawn the multiple and complicated sigils on the floor, some of which were possibly being used for the first time since the dawn of Creation. The Winchester brothers put on place candles and burned incense until the whole bunker smelled like a sacred temple. Jessica, Kevin, Jack and Kaia had moved away to sit on the staircase, not wanting to hinder the process, but they looked expectantly at what was about to happen.

"Everything is ready," Rowena said, guiding Lily to the centre of the knot made by the sigils, where she placed the turquoise bowl and handed her a dagger. "I'll recite the incantation. The moment I signal you, you have to cut yourself and pour your blood in the bowl. Your soul will then act as the catalyst."

Lily nodded and grabbed the dagger. Rowena exited the circle of sigils and started chanting.

 _"Elen síla lumenn'omentielvo…*"_

The spell was quite longer than usual, almost a full standard page. With every verse that escaped from Rowena's mouth, one of the nine candles inside of the circle randomly died or came lit again, until all of them were lit at the same time. Without stopping the chant, the witch made a sign to the other woman, who immediately cut her wrist and let her life spill from her. But even before Lily could lose enough blood to faint, the concoction reacted and a spurt of energy raised from the bowl like a chain, grabbing her hand and merging with her flesh. In seconds, her whole body was glowing inside out, her skin seemingly thin as the petal of a flower. No sound ever came out Lily's mouth, her face relaxed. When Rowena finished the last verse of the summon and all the candles went out, so did Lily's alighted body. Not even ashes remained of her.

"Is… is it done?" someone whispered after a minute of utter silence.

"I would say yes, but…"

"Yeah, nothing's different, except poor Lily. At least she didn't seem to suffer."

Castiel was about to enter the circle, intending to inspect the turquoise bowl in case anything had gone wrong, but before he could walk a single step his knees gave in, unable to hold him up. His breath got stuck in his throat as his body fell, completely lax.

"Cas?" Dean called him, running to his side.

But before he could reach him, Balthazar succumbed to the same fate. Both angels were sprawled on the floor, eyes wide open, and completely unresponsive.

"Dammit, the other too!" Sam ran to help his brother. "Balthazar, can you hear me? Balthazar!"

"What the hell is happening? Cas, answer me, you feather-brain!" Dean shouted, lightly slapping the seraph's cheeks. "Rowena, what have you done?"

"Don't pin this on me, I just did what you asked me to! I don't know what's wrong," she replied, coming to his side and checking on the angel. "Oh, bollocks… This can't be good."

"What? What is not good?"

Before daring an answer, the witch stared at Balthazar, who was behaving as much as a corpse than Castiel.

"I… I don't feel any source of energy from either of them," she said, fear and incomprehension mixing in her voice. "They're gone."

"Gone? What do you mean, gone?" Sam insisted.

"I mean that there's no angel here in this room right now. These bodies are empty vessels!"

"WHAT?!" both brothers yelled.

Before they could even assimilate what that could even mean, Jessica and Kevin hurriedly stood from the staircase, apparently facing their own discovering.

"Uh, Sam…?" Jessica called him, alerted.

"Guys, sorry to tell you, but we might have another unexpected problem here!"

The hunters looked at them, and then _behind_ them, to the staircase where Jack and Kaia were still sitting. Their breathe was laboured, blurting painful whimpers, hands clutching themselves as strong trembles shook their bodies. From one second to another, both teenagers started to bleed from their eyes, nose and ears.

"Holy shit, what the hell is happening?" Dean bellowed, trying hard not to panic and decide what to do. "Jess, Kev, grab those two and pull them down before they fall downstairs and break their skulls! Fuck!"

They did as they were told, carrying the two unconscious youngsters until they laid on the floor beside the two angels. Kevin then went to the kitchen and grabbed a clean cloth, soaking it in water in the sink. When he returned to the library, Jessica and him wiped the blood from their friends' faces, but they still continued bleeding for a little while.

"Rowena, can't you tell us anything at all?" Sam asked, extremely worried.

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand either," she lamented. "I've done many summonings in my life, but not even once something like this happened. I mean, you summon something and that something appears, as simple as that. But now? I can't even begin imagining what all this is about."

"Can you wake them up at least?" Dean grunted, crossing his arms.

"With Jack and Kaia, I may try, though they don't seem to be doing anything but sleep. I honestly think that if we let them wake up on their own they'll be fine. As for Castiel and Balthazar… there's nothing _inside_ for me to awake. My advice would be, and believe that I'm not trying to be humorous since this is totally not the moment for it, to put their vessels somewhere very cold before they start to rot."

Everyone gasped at the suggestion, since the idea of empty decomposing bodies lacking a source of energy hadn't set yet in their minds. They began to argue, discussing where in the bunker could be cold enough, or if it would be better to freeze the angels magically until more info was learned.

That was, until all the lights exploded. Not merely flicker and spark like whenever Balthazar visited the bunker, but literally every single lamp burst its lightbulb. The fuses went off and the emergency lights turned on, predicting the arrival of something way more powerful than a standard angel. And soon enough, two new figures stood amidst the semi-darkness.

"Well, Kali. Given the signs, I'd say we're already late."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Unbeknownst to them, Team Free Will weren't the only ones dealing with this issue. At the same time but two states away, in Sioux Falls, sheriff Jody Mills was about to put dinner on the table when her three foster girls started bleeding from their faces too.

There was a boy in Heaven bleeding from his soul.

And a girl in the first circle of Hell.

Another boy bleeding in Australia, held by his mother.

And yet another lonely bitter boy, locked on revenge, fainted in the middle of an abandoned street.

* * *

 ***** **The chanting line is quenya, taken from wikipedia.**

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	22. Chapter 21

_You know how it goes, death isn't what it used to be in the good ol' days..._

* * *

 **Chapter 21**

The mood in the library was still and silent, contrary to the accelerated pace that had been merely a minute ago. Half the people were tending to the other half, but the unbelievable appearance of the two uninvited guests had left them speechless and motionless, agape.

"I warned you about being lazy, Gabriel," Kali said in a chastising tone. "But you only ever seem to haste while escaping, not arriving."

The archangel scowled and rolled his eyes in annoyance, but didn't rebuff the accusation.

"I just didn't think it would be so easy for them. I thought there was time," he sighed. "Ok, so what's done is done. And now what?"

Such a question, tossed around so carelessly as if all of this was just a game, finally made the hunters snap back to their senses. Still clutching his best friend for support, Dean cared little to nothing about the possibility of being smitten or torched in the spot, and yelled at the two newcomers.

"And now what?" he repeated. "That's all you have to say, you son of a bitch? We thought you were dead, we needed so much help so many times, and suddenly you simply appear out of nowhere after being dilly-dallying, and you just ask 'What now'?"

"Ok, I get it. Sorry, Mum, for misbehaving," Gabriel snarled, not giving a damn but still a bit ticked off. "Can we get past the _How are yous_ and the _I'm fine thank yous_ , and focus on what the hell have you done, sweetcheeks?"

"How is it you're not dead, Gabriel?" Sam asked, recovered from the surprise but slightly awed.

"Ah, there's the more polite moron," the archangel smirked. "That's an easy one: I was never dead, not really."

"But Lucifer killed you."

"Yeah, well… That's pretty much true, but I already had a very smart contingence plan."

"He belongs to me," Kali interrupted, already fed up with the archangel praising himself. "In the summit of the gods, I casted the same blood spell I used on you two to bind Gabriel. He got you free, but never released himself. Thus, when Lucifer killed him, his essence went to me instead of vanishing into the Empty. I later rebuilt his vessel."

"So you were alive all along," Dean grunted in despise. "While the leviathans are roaming the Earth, when the angels fell and started their killing spree, when Amara was psycho-free and with Heaven crumbling… You knew everything, and yet you did nothing."

"What I'm doing right now, is wondering if buying you a dictionary will finally make you understand what 'Witness protection' means," Gabriel answered, serious for once. "I never wanted to take part in your holy crusade, in case you don't remember, and yet I did. I placed my bets on you, which got me killed, kinda. So excuuuuse me princess, for not wanting to be caught in the crossfire again."

The air in the bunker almost fizzled with celestial wrath, wards be blessed. Who knew if the building would still be standing if not for them.

"Please, gentlemen," Rowena spoke daintily. "If you're already done with your testosterone match, perhaps we could go back to more pressing matters? Like, for example, what has happened here with the spell?"

Gabriel breathed deeply, calming himself and falling back into his usual Trickster persona.

"Is anyone hurt?" he asked, looking at Jessica and Kevin, who still hadn't spoken a word.

"No, they… they seem to be fine, just unconscious," the blonde said. "We're okay too."

"Except for these two," Dean concreted, meaning the two angels. "Rowena says they're gone."

"She's right," Gabriel confirmed, after checking on his brothers. "No worries, though. I'm sure they've been sucked back to Heaven."

"What?" Sam gasped. "Why?"

"You've casted the Nine Choirs spell, haven't you? That means you've shaken the frontiers of this world and laid them bare to reset. Every creature that crawls the Earth has been called back home as a security measure not to get stuck in an unlivable place, until the frontiers are set again."

"Then why haven't you gone to Heaven too?" Kevin asked him.

"Because he was already with me," Kali answered instead. "My ownership rewrites his tied home."

"Hey, stop there a second," Dean demanded, rising up from beside Castiel. "That you said about creatures being sucked back home… what it means?"

"Well, angels were already home, except these two," Gabriel amiably kicked Balthazar's foot. "Demons go to Hell, fairies return to Avalon, reapers to the Veil… you get it."

"Leviathans?" the younger hunter dared to hope.

"Purgatory is an intended prison, Sammich, not a home. They remain out there."

Dean cursed under his breath. That surely meant that Legion was also unaffected.

"Then what the hell is…"

"GAAAHHHH!"

Before the older Winchester could finish whatever question he had, Balthazar's vessel returned to life rather unpleasantly, violently inhaling air, jerking and coughing on the floor.

"For Chrissake!" he spoke with a hoarse voice, as if he had been screaming for hours. "Never again I'm giving someone a ride to my body in _this_ way! How did you stand it, Cas?! And with Lucifer no less!"

Forcing himself to move, Balthazar turned to his side, where Castiel's vessel was, and grabbed both sides of his face. Instantly, a bright light shone back in the seraph's eyes.

"Never again…" Balthazar murmured, slumping back to the floor. "At this rate, I'm going to start taxing my wings for extra services and overwork."

"Thank you, Balthazar," Castiel said, difficultly sitting up. "I could not have come back on my own."

"Cas?" Dean was immediately on his knees again, gripping his angel tight by the shoulders and inspecting him. "Cas, are you ok?"

"Yes, Dean. I am alright," he answered, a reassuring smile on his face. "And welcome back, Gabriel. We heard everything from Heaven. And while giving the circumstances I am extremely pleased to know that an archangel, specifically you, is still alive, it would have been nice to be aware of this sooner. _Much_ sooner."

Gabriel bit the inside of his cheek, annoyed, but didn't say anything.

"Tell me about it," Dean tried to joke. "What's with this, everyone coming back from the dead? First Jess and Billie, then you and Rowena, Balthazar, Kaia, Kevin, now Gabriel… I'm losing count."

"Well, sorry to tell you, Dean, but apparently this is far from being over," Castiel said in an ominous tone, supporting himself on the hunter's arm and finally getting up. "After casting that spell from the Angel Tablet, there have been several unexpected consequences that we did not take into account."

"Which is exactly why I decided to finally show myself," Gabriel mumbled. "You have no idea what the Nine Choirs spell actually does and doesn't."

"Well then, would you be kind enough to share with the rest of the class?" Rowena sighed, tired of the stalling and wanting some answers to be given already.

"How about you first take a look at this?" the archangel replied, going between Jack and Kaia. He crouched and carefully turned the girl to the side, revelling her nape. "Do you recognize this, Castiel?"

The dark-haired angel looked, frowning. Of course he recognized it.

"It is a sigil, an extremely ancient one, branded in the soul very recently. In fact, I have seen it only once, in one of the nine apexes in Heaven. If I am not mistaken, this is the symbol for 'Authority'."

"That's right! What a good, dedicated student you were!" Gabriel mocked him a little, turning to the nephilim and exposing his nape too. "And this one?"

"That… that is the sigil for 'Archangel'," Castiel closed his eyes, defeated. "Jack has also been selected."

"Selected?" Sam repeated, confused. "Selected for what?"

"You bunch of morons tried to summon the anunnaki to close the door in AltMichael's face, as far as I know. News travel fast," Gabriel stated, standing up. "But do you even know how that works? Or did you think it was simply a matter of asking nicely? Let me answer that for you: NO. They weren't mere angels like the rest of us, they were… they _are_ the pillars that sustain this world. They can't simply leave their post when called upon."

"They need vessels," Kevin concluded.

"Not vessels. _Channels_ , just like in the past." The archangel looked tired just for being forced to be serious for so long. "So you made the call, and the call was answered. Now there are nine people out there with freshly branded napes, and until you reunite them all, you can't advance to the next level of the game."

"Wait, is there more?" Jessica exclaimed. "I… I thought that the spell we did would reset the frontiers."

"Oh no, pretty one. The spell was to invoke the power to do so, nothing else. You have now a borrowed chance, but do you know what to do with it? No, you don't, and that's why you're all morons. Like taking Daddy's car for the first time and already believing to know how to drive it."

The sudden realization of what the archangel meant hit them all almost at the same time. He was so right! Once again, they had some almighty force in their hands but no clue about how to use it. Same old story.

"Fuck," Dean cursed, dragging a hand down his face. "Ten times fuck, and we were so sure this was the solution."

"But this was what Chuck and Atropos suggested us to do!" Sam protested. "We can't be _that_ wrong. Ok, so this needs a few more steps than we planned, but… but the plan is still good. There must be a way."

He looked earnestly at Gabriel, at Kali, and then at Castiel and Balthazar. They were old and powerful beings, surely there must be something they knew.

"I didn't say there wasn't a way," Gabriel eventually gave in. "I only said that you were morons for starting a game without knowing how to finish it. Did any of you ever watched _Jumanji_?"

"I did," Balthazar finally felt strong enough to talk, his voice sounding normal now.

"Let me guess," Dean ventured. "We have to find those nine people that have been selected as channels or whatever, and then also find another spell to reset the frontiers of the world as we want them."

"Not exactly," Castiel replied. "The nine channels have already been found, more or less. The moment we casted the spell, nine tongues of fire flared across the world, two of them being Jack and Kaia. I told you, Dean. Unexpected consequences."

"Wait, so you already know where they are?" Sam asked, awed again. "That's great! Then we just have to retrieve them!"

"It's not so easy as you make it to be," Kali retorted, closing her eyes for a moment. "I can feel them too, even if barely, and some of them may prove difficult to retrieve. One is in Heaven, one is in Hell, and one is more powerful than any of us… except perhaps the nephilim."

"I am confident that Naomi will collaborate with us about the one in Heaven," Castiel said. "But retrieving the one in Hell is a perilous task, even for an angel."

All at once, everyone looked at the archangel.

"What?... Oh, ok, I know where this is going. You want me to risk my head again and play along with you. Well, folks, sorry to tell you but…" It was obvious what he was going to say, until the impassive goddess beside him grabbed his ear and pulled hard, like you would do with a misbehaving kid. "Aa-ah, ok, ok, dammit! I'll play with the other children, ok!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jody hastily opened her door, not caring that it was already half past three in the morning. She didn't need to look to know who was there, knocking on her doorstep, for she was the one who had phoned her visitor and asked her to come over.

"Donna, thanks for coming," she said, hugging her friend. "Sorry to make you come all the way from Minnesota."

"Nah, don't apologize like I was in the other side of the country. We're state-neighbours!" the other sheriff smiled, returning the hug. "How are the girls?"

"They seem to be fine, but I can't make them wake up," Jody answered, closing the door and offering the blonde a coffee from the kitchen. "Since they fainted last evening and stopped bleeding after a while, none of them have even moved a muscle. But… now there's this symbol burnt on their napes."

"A symbol? Like a tattoo?"

"No, not like that. I meant burnt like branded. Hot-iron branded."

"It's really strange," Donna acquiesced. "Specially all three of them at the same time."

"You don't know what a scare that gave me. We were just about to have dinner, and suddenly I have three girls having a seizure. Or what looked like one."

"I can imagine," Donna said, patting gently her friend's hand. "Where are they?"

"I put them in my bed, since it's a double. That way I can watch over the three of them at the same time," Jody sighed, massaging her sore neck. "But I think I should call Sam and Dean. Whenever something strange happen, it always seems to be related to them one way or another. And probably Castiel could tell me something about those marks."

"Go make the call. I'll go upstairs and keep company to the girls, just in case they wake up."

"Thanks, Donna. For coming and helping me. I was feeling really crappy all night."

"No, Jody! Why would you even say that?" the other woman worried.

The brunette sheriff sighed, looking downcast, her smile dreary.

"Kaia left… whatever Kaia that was, she was still one of the girls I did welcome into my home. And yet she left because I couldn't protect her from a monster," the woman spoke, sadness clear in her voice. "I almost lost Claire to a werewolf, same as I almost lost Alex to a vampire and Patience to a wraith, even before knowing her. They… they are my girls now, Donna, but it looks like no matter what I do, how hard I try, I can't keep them safe."

"Oh, Jody…" the blonde cooed, taking her friend into another big hug and rubbing her back. "It's not your fault, and you know that very well. Bad things happen, things that we can't avoid. But you're making it better for them, never doubt that. If not for you, Alex would be out there drinking lives instead of taking care of them; Claire would have ended in jail, considering the path she almost took; very likely Patience would have psychotic episodes all the time, because her and her father didn't know how to deal with her gift; and Kaia… she'd be absolutely dead, killed by the shedim, if you hadn't accepted her in your house."

Jody listened in silence, sobbing on her friend's shoulder for a little while until calming down.

"It's been some time since anyone told me that. I almost forgot how awesome I am," she attempted to joke, wiping her tears with a sleeve.

"That's the spirit, buddy!" Donna smiled friendly. "Now take a sip of water and go call those two little rascals. Who knows what they have done this time?"

"That's a question I'm actually afraid to make."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 ** _Hello? Is somebody there?_**

Jack woke up suddenly, sitting up on his bed like pulled by a string, and feeling like his head was about to split in two. He rested it in his hands, groaning in pain.

 ** _Oh, there you are. Sorry, were you sleeping?_**

He opened his eyes again, looking around, but there was nobody. He was alone in his bedroom.

 ** _I'm not there. I'm actually very far away, if I spotted you right._**

Growing anxious, Jack tried to get up from the bed, but as soon as he put a foot on the floor, a wave of dizziness flooded him. He had to sit back.

 ** _Ough, please, don't do that! At least not while I'm still talking to you. The line works in two directions._**

"Hello?" he said in his mind, reckoning that whoever was contacting him wouldn't need his voice.

 ** _Yes, hello. Something happened lately that allowed me to reach you. Nice to meet you at least!_**

"What do you mean, 'at last'?"

 ** _I've been trying to talk to you for some time now, since the moment I first felt your presence. And that's almost half a year ago._**

"Why?" Jack shook his head, noticing that the pain was already subduing considerably.

 ** _I guess I was curious. I had never before felt anyone so clearly as I felt you when you appeared. Can you tell me what happened?_**

"Half a year ago? I don't know. I was only born."

 ** _… You were born? But aren't you a baby now, then? How do you understand me?_**

"No, I'm not a baby. I had to grow fast. I think I look like… eighteen, maybe?"

 ** _Are you a monster?_**

"No, I'm not," Jack frowned, bewildered. "Or I'm trying not to become one. I think my species is called a nephilim."

 ** _A nephilim. Half human, half angel. I can relate, in some way._**

"Can you?" Jack was surprised. "Are you another nephilim? I didn't know there were more."

 ** _No, I'm not a nephilim. I'm in fact the exact opposite. What's your name?_**

"Jack. I'm Jack Kline," he thought, smiling a little. "And you?"

 ** _Hi, Jack. My name is Jesse Turner._**

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The next day was hell in the bunker, figuratively speaking. Save for Gabriel, who at the end graciously _accepted_ to go downstairs to actual Hell in order to retrieve whatever poor soul (or lucky soul, depending how you looked at it) had been chosen to participate in their little scheme. But for the rest of them, it was not a stroll in the park.

After Jack and Kaia had awaken from whatever deep dream they had been forced into by the spell and the situation was explained to them, sheriff Jody Mills had called the hunter brothers, demanding to know what they had done this time and why her foster girls had been branded like cattle. That was how everyone learned who three more of the anunnaki's selected channels were. Needless to say, Jody had been less than happy to hear about it, and now the bunker was being prepared to receive even more inhabitants.

"Don't you think this is beginning to look like a real secret society?" Dean couldn't help to grin, carrying a pile of clean blankets and sheets. "It started with only the two of us plus Cas, and now suddenly we're a merry bunch! And each one of us has an awesome story to tell too: two hunters, three angels, an avatar demigoddess, a nephilim, a resurrected soulmate, an almost-vampire girl, an almost-werewolf girl, a psychic… Makes me wonder how much better this can get?"

Sam was about to bitchface his brother, but ultimately decided not to dampen his childish joy. Puffing a pillow before placing it on a fresh bed, he played along.

"What else would you like?"

"I don't know. We had more than our fair share of demons, so I think we're good, thanks. Fairies are annoying, but I'm sure we could handle them. Maybe a reaper? They aren't that bad once you get to know them. And about monsters… we know not all of them actually deserve the name."

While the brothers were busy with the bedrooms, Balthazar had escorted Rowena back to her home and then returned to Heaven, intending to talk with Naomi and explain why a marked soul had flared up there. Jessica and Kevin had gone to Lebanon, tasked with buying as much food as the given credit card allowed. Castiel travelled to South Dakota to pick up the three foster girls, since it had been the consensus that all the branded channels should stay at the same place, where they were needed and protected. Kali had already returned to her pantheon. And the two last, Kaia and Jack, had been put to study angel stories and ancient lore.

It was almost midnight when the Winchesters finally allowed themselves to take a break and sit down in the library, enjoying the delicious pizzas that Kevin and Jessica had brought back.

"Sorry for Cas for missing this," Dean munched happily. "This cheese is to die for. And I'd know it."

"He could have a taste tomorrow if you deprive yourself from even a single piece," Jessica commented.

For a second, the hunter looked utterly disheartened at the thought of not enjoying food when it was still freshly made and hot.

"Or you could also treat Castiel to another pizza when he comes back," suggested Kevin.

"Now that sounds better," Dean nodded, finishing the last slice.

They were about to clean the table when the lamps flickered.

"Looks like Thaz is back."

Effectively, a couple of seconds later the angel materialized a few metres away, in the war room, but he wasn't alone. There was a boy behind him, head bowed down, almost like trying to go unnoticed.

"I got your third anunnaki doll," the angel spoke, grinning. "No need to thank me, but please do so."

"Thank you, Balthazar," Jessica said after a moment, since apparently not his fiancé nor her future brother-in-law were willing to it.

But something was wrong, she realized. Both men were quiet, almost petrified, looking at the boy that didn't dare to raise his head. Not like it was neccesary, because he had been recognized anyway. Dean was holding the empty box of pizza with so much strength that the cardboard was about to break, and Sam was barely even breathing. They looked astonished.

"It can't be," Dean whispered, finally reacting. "No, you can't... Adam?"

* * *

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	23. Chapter 22

_Because Dean is a hugger, don't you ever dare to doubt it._

* * *

 **Chapter 22**

Adam swallowed hard, extremely nervous and insecure. He didn't know what to say, what to do. It took him a long time to finally raise his head and face his brothers, or that's how it felt to him.

"Hello," he tried first, his voice almost squeaking.

Well, it was as good a start as any. Dean kept staring at him, mutilating the poor box of pizza in his hands, but Sam drew out a gun and very slowly aimed it at his face.

"Michael?" he asked cautiously.

The boy inhaled sharply, almost stepping back. Having a gun pointing at him was not a reassuring experience, but he understood. There were a few explanations to be delivered. However, he noticed how Sam's hands were slightly shaking, his jaw clenched, and that he hadn't disabled the safety of the gun yet.

"No, not Michael. Just me."

It took a few seconds of stalling silence, but eventually Sam lowered his weapon and put it away. Dean let go of the box and started advancing towards his littlest brother, his eyes wide and inspecting every single feature of him, as if convincing himself that what he was seeing was real. Adam fidgeted under his gaze, unsure what to expect.

"Adam," the hunter stated, stopping right in front of him, and it didn't sound like a question.

"Yes," he nodded.

And suddenly he was being wrapped in strong arms, hugged tightly. Startled at first, it barely took Adam a second to recover, relief flooding him and returning the affection. When Dean finally released him, it was to be trapped in another bone-crushing hug by his other older brother.

"Welcome back, Adam."

"So it worked," Dean spoke, amazed and with a small hopeful smile displayed on his face. "You've been freed from the Cage. Are you... do you feel ok?"

"I don't know what you mean with 'working', but…" he looked earnestly at both of them. "I've never been in the Cage. The moment I said yes to Michael and he possessed my body, I was sent back to Heaven. Because that was the deal I had made with Zachariah, to meet with my mum up there. I wasn't needed for anything else anyway."

"Say what?" Dean frowned.

"You… you were never…" Sam stuttered, confused.

"I'm sorry for leaving you alone, Sam," Adam apologized, sadness and remorse tainting his voice. "I know you both believed that I was there in the Cage, but it wasn't true. I was able to hear you from my heavenly piece, every time one of you grieved for me. I wanted to reach out to you, to do anything to make you know that I was fine, but… I couldn't. I'm really sorry."

"The hell you're saying?" Dean rebuked, grabbing his shoulder. "If you never were in the Cage that's good, that's… that's awesome. I just don't understand? When I asked Death to retrieve you and Sam's soul, he made me choose."

The silver-eyed celestial being in the room chose that moment to wilfully clear his throat, reminding them that there were more people around.

"Eh, excuse me for interfering with this very emotional and heart-wrenching reunion," Balthazar called to them from the chair in which he had comfortably sat. "But what makes you think Death should grant all your wishes? Be grateful that he complied to even one. Death plays by its own rules, and very likely when he said that he was playing with you too. Compared to the current Billie, the previous boss actually had some sense of humour."

"So that's why I didn't have a single memory of you," Sam only now realized. "Michael said you 'weren't home', and we were told that my soul was the only source of amusement for Lucifer, but when my mindwall broke… I wondered why I couldn't remember you, Adam."

"And that slimey bastard of Crowley probably never bothered to tell Cas that there was one supposed inmate missing from the Cage, when all he cared about was to get his hands on Purgatory."

"I'm truly sorry, guys. I never got the chance to even thank you for coming back for me when Zachariah fooled me, but thanks," the boy lamented, finally getting it out of his chest. "You two got old, by the way."

"Why you little…" Dean feigned offense, while Sam laughed it off. "Not all of us were relaxing in a cloud while the world turned to crap, you… you _prat_. You don't know it, but we've had a rough time in the last eight years."

"Actually I do!" Adam smiled sincerely. "Your friend Ash hacked me in after my second death. All of us in the Roadhouse receive periodical Winchester updates. This said, there's another person I want to greet now."

Under the confused looks of his brothers, Adam walked to the first table in the library, where the Prophet of the Lord had also got up from his seat.

"Hey, Kevin Solo!" he said confidently. "So this is where you have run off to!"

"Hey, pal!" Kevin greeted back, and they bumped fists as if it was usual for them. "Glad to see you also made it back to life!"

"Seems like that, yeah. I even got a cool 'Principality' tattoo in my neck and everything."

"It's the trend right now," the dark-haired teenager joked. "The two other buddies here, Jack and Kaia, are already sleeping but they have one too. And three other girls that are coming over. Tsk, perhaps I should get a second tattoo for myself?"

The Winchester brothers stared flabbergasted at the two boys, chatting like long-time friends.

"Wait, so you know each other?" Sam asked. "How?"

"Sure we do," Kevin answered. "I told you that I had met many of your friends in Heaven, not only Donatello. Adam is actually my best friend."

"I met them too," Adam added, and then turned towards Jessica. "And I also knew about you, even if we couldn't talk before because you weren't aware of the supernatural yet. Nice to meet you at last, future half-sister-in-law!"

"Likewise," she smiled back. "And thank you."

"Good thing we already have the rooms ready," Dean commented. "But here's a problem: there won't be enough for everyone. So you kids ok with being roommates?"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Castiel returned to the bunker two days later with Claire, Alex and Patience, each one carrying a different coloured duffel. The blonde girl had insisted in driving her own car, because sure as hell she wasn't going to leave behind her own weapons and other equipment, as well as her independency (and if a certain stuffed cat was part of said equipment, that was her own business and nobody's else). When they arrived, it was like a festival of obliged hugs that the hunters faked to barely withstand as much as the young huntress did.

"Adam," Castiel frowned upon seeing him, but he recovered quickly and smiled beatifically. "I was informed of your return by Balthazar. It is good to see you in good health."

"Thanks, Castiel," the boy nodded, letting go of his nervousness.

"Hey, Grumpy Kitten," Dean smirked at Claire, pointing at the four bags that the angel had carried downstairs. "How much luggage did you bring? Closets aren't exactly spacious here, you know?"

"They must be big enough if you hid in them for so long, Dean," Claire mocked him back, puzzling the hunter. "But only one duffel per head. The fourth one…" her mood dropped, taking back a dark green bag from the angel's hands and harshly throwing it at Kaia's feet, "is for her. Jody packed some old clothes that she thought could fit her."

It was obvious that Jessica's clothes didn't really suit the avatar girl, but it had been an improvised solution. Disregarding the huntress' impolite manners, Kaia crouched and picked up the bag.

"Thank you for bringing this to me, Claire."

The blonde snorted, ignoring her. It wasn't as if she had anything to do with it, not really. Jody had been the one to ask her that favour.

"So, girls," Sam spoke. "There aren't enough bedrooms here for everyone, so some of you youngsters need to bunk together. Adam is staying with Kevin in his room, nº12, and Kaia is next to what used to be our friend Charlie's room…"

"I'm not bunking with her," Claire immediately grunted in contempt. "I'll room with Alex. At least her I already know."

Giving the tense atmosphere, nobody tried to object.

"Well, there's also room 16, next to Castiel's," Sam suggested.

"I'll do it," Patience offered, looking gently at the dreamwalker. "I mean, if it's ok with you. I'd like to know you better, since… we didn't really have a chance the other times we met."

"That would be nice, to make a few friends in this world after being on my own for so long. Thank you, Patience," Kaia said, a bit moved. "Come with me, we're in room 19."

After the two girls crossed the threshold to the hallway under the sceptic gaze of the female Novak, she turned around to take her duffel and noticed the presence of the nephilim, just standing there near Castiel and herself.

"Uh? What are you doing here?"

"Me?" Jack frowned a bit, disconcerted by the question. "I live here."

"You live here?" she repeated. "Why? I thought you were just an odd guy that got mixed in some weird stuff with Kaia. The _real_ Kaia."

"No, not at all. I've been living here since I was born, even before Castiel returned from the Empty."

"What does he have to do with anything?"

"Because Castiel is my father."

The previously already tense atmosphere in the war room suddenly felt as diamond dust. Dean and Sam looked at each other, silently debating if intervening or not in the obvious misunderstanding this would lead to, but at the end deciding that it was up to their feathered friend to deliver an explanation. Jessica, Kevin and Adam looked equally dubious from their seats in the library.

"Say what again?" the girl practically growled in a low voice.

"Claire, it is not what you think," Castiel hurried to say. "Please, allow me to explain."

"What does it matter to you?" Jack asked, confused by the huntress' evident anger.

"Jack, you know that angels like me need a vessel to walk the Earth. The body I now inhabit belonged to a good and devoted man named Jimmy Novak before he died. Claire is his daughter."

The nephilim took a few seconds to assimilate the information, but when he did, a big cheerful grin broke in his face.

"Sister!" he exclaimed happily, throwing his arms around the girl in a bear hug. "Sister, my sister!"

"What are you doing, freak?!" Claire yelled, pushing him away, but unsatisfactorily this didn't make him lose his smile. "Let go of me!"

"If Castiel is my father and you're his vessel's daughter, that makes you my sister!"

"CASTIEL!" she shouted furiously, gutting the angel with a look. "What the hell have you been doing with my dad's body? Parading him around? Have you really fathered this guy?"

"That is not…" the seraph panicked. "Well, technically yes, I accepted the responsibility for Jack's life, but…"

"Fuck you," Claire spat, despise in her voice and hurt in her eyes. "And fuck you big, Castiel. You and your boy."

Not wanting to keep seeing the angel, she stormed down the hallway without a second glance or another word. Alex sighed deeply, pretty much used to the Novak's outbursts.

"I apologize in her name," the girl said regretfully, taking both her duffel and Claire's from the floor. "I don't fully understand what this was about, but I know she didn't mean it. Not like that, at least. The moment she lets out a bit of steam she'll come back to talk to you, so let her be for a little, ok?"

"I… I will, then. Thank you for the advice, Alex."

The nurse nodded, going after her friend to room 16. Slowly, everyone let go of the breath they had been holding.

"Well, that could have been worse," Dean said, softly slapping his angel's back in support. "Want a beer to cool down?"

"No, Dean," he replied, sad. "I am not currently in a proper mindset to enjoy an alcoholic beverage."

"Why was she so angry?" Jack inquired. "Does she hate me?"

"Nobody hates anybody, Jack," Sam instantly jumped to dispel the idea, before any misunderstandings could find home in the nephilim's head. "It's just that Claire didn't really know about you, but it's ok. It will be ok, don't worry."

"So, referring to the Nine Choirs spell and the apexes sigils," Kevin asked, "what about these girls?"

"I inspected them at Jody's house," Castiel confirmed. "They are authentic, like Adam's. Claire is 'Seraphim', Alex is 'Throne', and Patience is 'Virtue'."

"So we have six, only three more to go until we slam the door on AltMichael's face," Dean commented.

"Yeah. We still need a 'Cherubim', 'Dominion' and 'Angel' person," Sam summarized. "But we only know about the seventh channel being in Hell that Gabriel went to rescue. I wonder who and where are the last two?"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A couple of hours later, Sam and Jessica had moved to the kitchen in order to cook lunch together for the sudden troop of eaters they had got. Dean was in the far end of the library with a laptop, trying to show Adam and Kevin how much technology had advanced since they died, while Jack watched. The girls were nowhere in sight, likely resting and getting used to the bunker. Castiel was in the war room part, reading a _Gardening for dummies_ book that Sam had gotten for him, when Claire sat demurely beside him.

"Claire," Castiel murmured anxiously, closing the book and focusing all his attention on the girl.

"I talked to Jody on the phone," she started in a repenting tone. "And she told me the story behind your supposed son. I… I wanted to say that I'm sorry."

"It is alright, Claire," the angel said, forgiving. "You had the right to be angry if you thought that I was disrespecting your father's body."

"But that's exactly the matter!" she insisted, nervously playing with her fingers. "I'm not apologizing only for the scene I made, I also… (sigh). I didn't realize it until now, but I should say goodbye to Dad once and for all. Seeing you like a remnant of him, it hurts, when I know he's not here anymore. He's gone, and this body isn't his anymore, it's _yours_. And… that's ok."

Castiel was rendered speechless for a moment, a warm sentiment enveloping his grace at the huntress' acceptance.

"Claire, I also have something that I want to share with you," he said, turning his body to be fully in front of her, hands resting on his knees. "During my recent and unexpected calling to Heaven, I seized the opportunity to visit your parents, and… I discovered that Jimmy and Amelia were together, sharing their piece. Now, it is imperious that you comprehend how exceptional this is, because only soulmates can do that, and they are extremely rare. Yet your parents were able to find each other once again, because they were part of those special people."

Claire listened intently, stunned, her eyes glistening and mouth dry due to her turmoil of emotions.

"Dad disappeared, and Mum left me to go looking for him," she whispered, voice breaking and tears beginning to fall. "He never came back, and she died trying to find him. But now you're telling me that, after all, they actually made it and reunited in Heaven?"

Even with her face wet and lips trembling, Claire still managed a little laugh before launching herself at the angel and hugging him tightly.

"Thank you," she sobbed, while the angel hugged back and patted her. "Thank you, Castiel. Thank you."

"You are welcome, Claire," Castiel said, placing a small kiss on the top of her head. "You deserve happiness, and I am glad to be able to bring even this little bit to you."

"Same goes for you, you know," the girl replied, letting go of the seraph and wiping her tears with her hand. "I really meant what I said before. This body is yours now, and… I won't be bothered if you use it in the way humans are supposed to."

And her eyes very meaningfully focused long past the angel, to the other side of the big room, where Dean was chatting with the boys about hacking security cams. Castiel followed her gaze, but when he understood that she meant the hunter, he instantly recoiled.

"It is… it is not like that, Claire," he assured her, feeling an unpleasant warmth on his cheeks.

"Not yet, you mean?" the blonde teased him without mercy, getting up. "I'm not a child anymore, Castiel. And I haven't been blind for the last years either. Nobody was, except maybe Dean. But as I've already said, I'm ok with it."

Claire left him to his musings and gardening manual, heading towards the nephilim. She could as well set this right.

"You, the freak," she called out to him, but lacking the hateful tone she had used the previous time. "Since Castiel is more or less like a second father to me, and Jody is something like a mother, and even Alex is like a sister… I can deal with it, if you want me as an older sister too."

Jack immediately lighted up, grinning like the small kid he was inside, and captured the girl in a hug again.

"Sister!"

"Yeah, whatever," she rolled her eyes, but allowed the hug. "I guess the more, the merrier."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

At night Dean sighed, rolling the black pearl between his fingers. He sat on the edge of the bed, his back hunched, and feeling tiredness all over his body despite not having done anything strenuous in the last days. Adam was back safe and sound thanks to Heaven (literally), just like he had asked, just like he had wished… but the little teardrop was still in his possession. He had resisted checking it up for a couple of days, believing that surely this time his wish had been granted, but he had been wrong and that somehow frustrated him.

Twice. For twice Dean had tried to use Amara's gift and twice it had been null, first with Castiel and second with Adam.

A knock at the door pulled him out of his musings. Quickly hiding the pearl back in the drawer, he laid down on the bed and pretended to relax.

"Come in."

Castiel opened the door only a little at first, unsure of entering, but after a moment of hesitation he decided to do so, closing the door behind.

"Sorry for coming this late," he apologized, looking very shy for some reason. "I was doubtful of still being welcome into your room at night."

"What? Why wouldn't you be?"

"Because… we are not alone in the bunker anymore, Dean. It is not only us with Sam and Jessica and Jack now. Today Claire expressed her acceptance to me, but currently there are many more people around us. I considered the possibility of you being uncomfortable."

Dean sat up, crossing his legs and smiling forgivingly.

"I already said it, Cas. No more running away, no more hiding. Damn them all who object to this. It's _my_ life, it's _your_ life, not theirs. We… we don't have that many chances at happiness, and I'm not going to keep wasting them. So strip down already and come to bed," he grinned, motioning his hand to make the angel come closer. "It's already late and I need my beauty sleep."

Castiel smiled back, reassured. He took off his trenchcoat and suit jacket, leaving both garments on the chair. Then he stepped out of his shoes and laid down beside his human, who was already under the blanket.

"You know, Cas," Dean spoke softly, almost timidly, after the seraph had turned off the nightstand lamp. "It's already December. Christmas is nearing, and I'm thinking of getting you your own set of pajamas."

"You do not need to get me anything, Dean, but thank you for the intention. Why concretely pajamas, though?" And Castiel would have sworn that the hunter scooted closer, as much as the sheets barrier allowed him.

"No reason," Dean answered, thanking the darkness for hiding his unmanly blush. "Also, about what we talked that time, I've been thinking… that maybe we could have our date now, before Gabriel returns from Hell? Because when we gather all the anunnaki people, we'll probably be busy. Let's take our chances now that we can."

Castiel smiled widely, even if his friend-becoming-something-else couldn't see it. Joy and expectation were radiating within him in waves.

"That would make me very happy, Dean."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The next morning, when Patience woke up and rose from the makeshift mattress on the floor, she found her roommate already gone. Stretching her body and putting on her slippers, the psychic girl pulled on her winter coat over her nightgown and buttoned it up. Slowly opening the door, as to not disturb anyone who could be sleeping since likely it was still early, Patience peeked along the hallway, trying to remember the way back to the war room and therefore to the kitchen. Good thing she had always been good at solving mazes.

Walking quietly and rubbing her arms in an attempt to retain the warmth from sleep, Patience just walked past the door numbered 22 when something foreign resonated inside her mind.

 ** _Where are you from?_**

"I'm not sure how to answer that. I was born in North Cove, but my origin comes from Heaven. What about you?"

 ** _It's equally difficult for me. A demon can't get pregnant nor can impregnate others, but I was forced into my mother's womb from within, mixing essences. I'm a rarity._**

Patience gasped, astounded. What was this conversation even about? Unconsciously, she strained her ears to hear better, but no sound came to her. However, more words were soon poured into her mind.

"That doesn't sound nice."

 ** _I guess it wasn't. Probably that was the reason my mother abandoned me._**

"My mum didn't want me at first either. She was scared, because everyone told her that I'd take after my no-father and become a monster like him. But in the end, she chose to believe in me and loved me, even if she was going to die. Because she had faith that I would be good."

 ** _Yes, I can relate to that too._**

Patience almost groaned, feeling the beginning of one of her usual migraines. Holding out an arm to support herself on the wall and the other hand massaging her temple, she tried to relieve some of the pressure that the strange conversation was forcing on her. But before she could walk away far enough, a couple more of sentences reached her.

"I like talking to you, Jesse. Won't you be my friend?"

 ** _We can be, if you really want to meet me. I know it's going to happen very soon anyway._**

"My sister and her other sister are sharing a room. We could too! It sounds like fun."

The psychic girl was almost on the next hallway when the weird and abnormal connection finally broke. Resting her head on the wall for a moment, Patience closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She almost jumped out of her skin when someone touched her shoulder.

"AH!"

Kaia was in front of her, hand in mid-air and looking on guard. She was already dressed in Jody's old clothes, which were obviously out of date but still looked fresh and barely worn.

"Are you okay, Patience?" she asked, just in case.

"Yes, I… Sorry for the scream, you surprised me. But yes, I'm okay. Only… searching the toilets and the kitchen."

"Toilets are opposite the locker room, in the same hallway. Second to your left."

"Thank you, I'll go right now. Have you had breakfast yet, Kaia?"

"Yes, I have. With Dean and Jessica."

Patience nodded, smiling a bit as her heart recovered its normal pace, and headed to the toilets. A couple of steps away, however, the avatar girl called after her again.

"There's something I must warn you about, Patience," she said, her eyes squinting and her voice ominous. "Whenever Jessica bakes cookies for breakfast, you better get up early, or there will be nothing left."

* * *

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	24. Chapter 23

_You won't convince me that a town of 218 people has its own theatre, so don't even bother_ _._

* * *

 **Chapter 23**

Castiel smiled almost elatedly, happily munching his burger. The hunter in front of him was talking non-stop, only pausing briefly to swallow. He seemed to be having a good time, and this was, more than anything, what filled the angel with bliss. It was their first date, and as simple as it could look, Castiel couldn't be happier.

"And then, for the first time in his life, Sammy asked me: ' _Dean, quick question. How do you talk to girls?_ ' Damn, I was loading a gun and almost shot it on my foot!"

Castiel let out a little chuckle, enjoying the anecdote. He knew that Dean and Sam hadn't had the easiest of childhoods, so the fact that his charge could find nice memories to share with him was an added bonus to their date time.

"That must have been quite a surprise."

"Yeah, don't I know it? I thought I had such a nerdy little brother, and from one minute to another he jumped to puberty right on my face!"

"I like to see you smile, Dean," Castiel said softly. "I wish that I was able to enjoy that gesture on you more often."

Dean was taken aback for a moment, suddenly feeling warm above the neck and fuzzy in his stomach. He could almost see the pink cloud framing them like in a picture, which made him look away from the blue gaze and shift in his chair, focusing on eating his burger.

"I have made you uncomfortable," Castiel noticed, frowning sadly. "My apologies, Dean. It was not my intention."

"No, Cas, it's… it's not that," the hunter immediately retorted. "Just that sometimes you say something cute like that, and it catches me off guard and I don't know how to react."

"You think it is cute that I like your smile?" the seraph tried to understand. "Maybe I should increase the frequency in which I say these cute things, in order to help you to grow accustomed to it."

"I didn't mean…" Dean jabbered, until he saw the mischievous glint in his friend's eyes. "Cas, are you teasing me on purpose?"

"Perhaps a little," he grinned, satisfied to have gotten the upper hand on the Winchester for once. "But I was being truthful anyway, Dean."

The human let it pass, not wanting to embarrass himself again. He still had his pride after all, and the evening was still young.

Dean had planned this date carefully, though he would never admit it. There was this bar in Lebanon with good beer and decent music, where the brothers and the angel usually went to relax between cases, and also Jessica when she felt like joining them; but it wasn't good enough for a fate, and thus Dean had looked up another place for him and Castiel to have dinner. Not like it was easy, because there was a limit to what a tiny town of barely two hundred villagers could offer, but at least there was this small diner in a corner that actually served food. The fact that said food included some more than acceptable burgers had been almost a miracle.

"Thanks for the tip!" the waiter waved at them when they finished their meal and exited the place.

Once on the street, Castiel turned to the other male. The night had already fell.

"That was very enjoyable, Dean," he smiled. "I had a very good evening."

"What?" It was Dean's turn to frown. "Don't say that yet, as if we're already done. There's more to do."

"There is?" Castiel repeated, almost gleaming in pleasure at the idea that his special time with his human-friend-that-I-am-officially-dating-now was still going on.

"Don't be so excited," Dean mumbled, nervously combing his hair through his fingers. "It isn't anything great, but it's the best I could find around here in such short notice. Don't ask and just follow me, ok?"

Castiel nodded and did as the hunter asked. It couldn't matter less to him where Dean took him, as long as they were together for a bit longer. However, he wasn't able to hide his puzzlement when their next stop happened to be a shop, a little mini-market. Dean bought two cans of soda (not beer?!) and two packets of microwave popcorn, asking the clerk to please make them, using two paper bags as buckets.

"Keep it inside your coat," Dean instructed, handing him one of the popcorn bags after folding the top. "Popcorn taste best hot."

After leaving the shop, Dean headed to the town centre, where the Hall was. Normally, at this late hour it was already closed, but not today. Apparently they were using the big meeting room for some kind of social gathering, since there were a few more couples joining them, some with snacks and also blankets and others without.

"Dean, what are we doing here?" Castiel whispered, unable to contain his curiosity and grabbing the man's sleeve.

He would have preferred to take Dean's hand instead, but he had both of his occupied, carrying the cans and the other bag of popcorn.

"Movie night, Cas," Dean smiled. "Once a week. There's no cinema around, so this will have to do. Let's hope that at least the projector and screen are large enough and the chairs aren't broken? I don't know what we're going to watch, so… sorry if it's some teenager crap."

The seraph couldn't help to bite his tongue, or he would have laughed at the hunter's distress.

"I will not mind whichever movie is, Dean. I am already happy just by watching it in your company."

"Geez, Cas. Don't be so easy to please, or I'll go lazy on you. And I don't want to take you for granted ever again."

The movie was _Pretty Woman_. Castiel liked the chick-flick, Dean hated it (or so he said). It was almost midnight when they got back to the Impala, but there was still one last thing that Dean had planned out for their first date.

"Dean, why have we stopped here?" the celestial warrior asked when he turned off the car half way back to the bunker.

"It's called stargazing," he answered kinda sheepishly, getting out. "C'mon, Cas. It's relaxing."

"Are you stressed, Dean?" the angel worried, but he obeyed and exited the vehicle too.

"No. Just shut up and sit next to me," Dean chuckled, patting Baby's hood.

So Castiel did. For a little while they just stood there quietly, looking at the sky. There was a shooting star, and Dean remembered that normal people use to ask wishes to them, people who don't know how dangerous getting your wishes granted could actually be. But he knew, and wasn't going to risk it. Besides, what was the point of wishing to a star when he already had another safer way? Well, so to speak, because the tiny teardrop had already failed twice.

Dean glanced at his companion. Castiel was looking up too, but he seemed… distracted. Realizing this, the Winchester almost cursed himself. How could he be so stupid? Stargazing had been something soothing for Dad, Sam and him during their long hours on the road, but what interest could it hold for an angel of the Lord? A multidimensional-wavelength-of-celestial-intent that probably had witnessed new stars born? Or perhaps he was being reminded of how his home was about to come down crumbling any minute now? Oh yeah, what a smooth move that was.

"Cas, are you bored?" Dean hastily suggested, trying to get the angel thinking in anything else. "We can… we can just go back to the bunker, you know."

"I am never bored in your company, Dean," Castiel answered truthfully, locking gazes with him. "Why would I want to leave?"

"I don't know, I…" Dean sighed, nervously licking his lips. "It's only that, sometimes, I feel like I don't get you at all. You never ask for anything, and… sometimes it makes me think that you're only going with the flow. I need a bit of feedback from time to time, buddy."

"Do I make you feel insecure?" Castiel asked, aghast at the possibility. "Dean, I so deeply apologize! I… I simply did not want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable, thinking that you were under obligation to do anything. Please, trust me! I am already unbelievable blessed by the chance of being with you romantically, I would not dare to expect anything else. But I do want you, Dean. I so much want you. I… I love you."

The soft and low tone in which Castiel finished his little rant mellowed Dean's heart. The seraph sounded truly crestfallen, almost miserable, by the idea of making him feel unappreciated. It was kinda adorable, in Dean's opinion. And of course, there was also the fact that Castiel once again had voiced out his feelings for him.

"I am sorry, Dean. I hope you could forgive me."

"Hey, it's ok. No big deal," Dean replied, now feeling a bit guilty. "It's not like I ever asked you before doing anything, so… I guess I'm at fault too. But you can talk to me. You _have_ to tell me these things directly, because I'm dumb like that and likely if I mess up I won't notice until it's too late. And I don't want _too late_ to happen to us, Cas. Understood?"

"You are not dumb, Dean," Castiel immediately defended him. "You are in fact very sensitive to other people's sentiments. But yes, I understand. I will do my best in expressing my desires to you from now onwards, if that will please you."

"Good. Let's start right now. What do you want to do?"

Castiel was silent for a second, thinking, and then he remembered his earlier want.

"I would like to hold your hand," he confessed. "And embrace you, and kiss you profoundly."

"You're such a sap, Cas," the human smiled, taking the other's hand. "Just say that you wanna make out with me and go for it."

With a little tug, Dean pulled Castiel towards him and kissed his waiting lips, letting out a moan at the pleasant sensation. Chaste at first, the kiss soon grew in passion, with both of them thoroughly exploring each other's mouths in a delicious dance of tongues.

"It still feels odd to kiss you," Dean whispered humorously between kisses, stroking the firm cheek. "Grazing your stubble makes my lips all tingly."

"I apologize. My attempts with a razor have been rather unsuccessful."

"It wasn't a complaint, Cas."

As if wanting to prove it, he cupped Castiel's face between his hands, caressing him with his thumbs and shoving his tongue back inside the heavenly mouth. The soft feeling of sandpaper under his fingertips was strangely calming in a way, or perhaps it was the fact that this was his angel. _His_ , and nobody else's.

"Dean…"

Apparently Castiel was also getting into it, if that erotic whimper was anything to go by. His hands had clutched Dean's shirt the moment the man had let go of them, and now were slowly roaming the chest, the collarbone, the stomach… up and down wherever he could reach in a maddening gentle touch. At some moment Dean had hopped down Baby's hood and settled himself between Castiel's knees, allowing them to get even closer. The hunter grabbed the other's nape, lacing his fingers with the soft strands of dark hair, dominating the kiss.

It was too much. Dean's smell, Dean's touch, Dean's taste… too many sensations for his human vessel to take all at once, and yet not enough. Castiel needed more. He needed to feel his charge's body and soul, _really_ feel him. The longing was so consuming that without realizing it, the angel moved his invisible wings towards his friend. The ethereal cartilages of his damaged appendages closed around him in a tender gesture, in a protecting cocoon.

"Ooohhh…" Castiel moaned in his date's ear, shuddering all over.

Dean felt a spark of pride, listening the sultry noises he was causing and feeling the warm body pressed to his. He too was enjoying himself, heat starting to burn inside his pants. Maybe… maybe this would be a good time to step up their game? Admittedly, he was still a bit apprehensive about the whole playing-with-another's-junk, but this was Cas. Weird, dorky little guy that had pulled his sorry ass out of Hell. And he knew how dicks worked, after all he had his own. It was no mystery to him. Dean was confident he could make it good for Cas, and there was no time like the present.

He was about to make the daring move when something scraped against his back. Dean slightly rolled his shoulder, thinking that a leaf, an acorn or something had fallen on him. He continued kissing Castiel, but the sensation didn't go away. It was constant, persistent, like small twigs rubbing against his skin. It was distracting.

"Dammit, what the hell…" he grumbled annoyed, letting go of Castiel for a second to look behind and scratching his back.

There was nothing but air. No leaves, no twigs, anything… but he heard a tiny snapping sound, like something suddenly retracting. Dean turned back to the seraph, intending to restart the kiss, until he saw the horrified look in his best friend's face.

"Cas?" he asked, worried by this very unexpected change in attitude. "What's wrong?"

"I…" Castiel stuttered, obviously nervous. "Nothing is wrong, Dean."

"You sure? Look, if I went too strong onto you…"

"No! It is not your fault. I mean… everything is alright, Dean. I merely felt slightly out of myself, because… our kiss was intense. But I promise you that I am perfectly fine."

"Intense," Dean repeated, sceptical but pretending to buy it. "Ok, then… should we continue?"

"By all means, yes, please."

Dean hesitated for a second, in case he had scared him somehow, but since apparently everything was normal, he took possession of Castiel's mouth again. He tried to be gentler now and not so hasty, playfully nibbling the angel's lips, but something was definitely wrong. All this while Castiel had been relaxed and pliant, responding to each kiss and touch with equal delight and eagerness, but now he was tense and restrained. Dean gave him a couple of minutes, waiting to see if perhaps he could get him to relax again, but it was to no avail. The mood was gone, and he didn't even know why.

"Cas?" he called him again, frowning.

Just in case, Dean dissimulately grinded his crotch against Castiel's, and... yeah, pretty sure nothing was raising from perdition down there.

"Cas…"

"I had a wondrous tryst with you today, Dean, for which I am very thankful," Castiel quickly spoke, hiding his face in the crook of Dean's neck, not looking at him. "This has been, by great difference, one of the best nights of my life. But now I would like to rest. May we return to the bunker, please?"

The Winchester stood there, trying to understand what might have happened to break so completely the nice atmosphere they had going until then, but came up with nothing. Perhaps Castiel's suggestion was for the best.

"Sure, Cas." Dean patted affectionately his friend's back, to let him know that even if confused, at least he wasn't angry at all. "Let's go back home."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Despite his reassurances, Dean couldn't help but feeling somehow irked by the bad note that their first date finished with, specially because he had no clue about what had happened to spoil it when it was going so well. He went through it several times in his mind, but couldn't pinpoint any bad word or touch that could have turned Castiel off. It was frustrating.

Perhaps he was looking at it the wrong way. Did he know what would turn on an angel in the first place? Maybe they had different erogenous zones. Heck, did they even have any? Because as far as Dean remembered, angels were supposed to be asexual and genderless, and while currently Castiel was using a responsive human vessel, that fact could be important. There was a chance that it was Dean's fault, if he inadvertently had touched his partner as if he was a woman instead of a man, just because a female shape was what he was used to.

A sour taste settled in the pit of Dean's stomach when he recalled April. That sly reaper bitch had taken advantage of a helpless Cas in need and popped his cherry before killing him. It was actually no wonder that he was a bit reluctant to engage in sexual behaviour, if that was even the issue, because... dammit, Dean couldn't forget the awesome little sounds that the angel had made. Castiel had seemed to be enjoying it as much as he did himself. Just thinking about it was enough to get the hunter hot and bothered.

Man, what a mess.

"Dean, look at this," Sam called ominously the moment his big brother stepped in the war room, standing hands flat on the table and a somber face. "Something is happening."

"And by your tone I bet it's awesome news like our usual, right?" he said, preparing himself for the worst, whatever that could be considering the life they led. "What we've got?"

"We're not sure," Jessica answered, tiredly closing a big and worn out notebook and putting it atop a pile of several others. "Sam and I have been looking through the manuals of these machines since yesterday, but we've only decrypted a few of the many alerts these things apparently are programmed to warn us about. Who knows which one this is."

"I've seen it before, but I can't guarantee that it's exactly the same thing," Kevin told them, looking at the red dots that illuminated the board. "It happened when the angels fell and the bunker was put under emergency protocol, but at that time there were hundreds, maybe thousands of dots. This time there are only nine, and besides, some of them move."

"They move?" Dean repeated, curious, going to the map table.

"Yes. I've been sitting here or in the library translating the tablets since I came downstairs, and these dots appeared the same day we casted the Nine Choirs spell. They were all over the world, but since then they have slowly but steadily moved towards here. At first it was only two, but eventually the others too. Except this one that is moving to Australia," Kevin pointed to a dot barely leaving Mayotte, and then to another in the middle of Siberia, "and this one that still hasn't moved at all."

Dean squinted at the dots, and just as his eyes were randomly following one placed in Czech Republic, the tiny red mark blinked, showing up again barely a centimetre closer to the German border. He briefly wondered how long it would take the dot to cross the ocean at this pace, when he noticed that two other dots were already in Arizona and Tennessee.

"Ok, so besides these ants roaming free, what's the matter?"

"You mean, despite the fact that we don't know what is this but the Men of Letters considered it potentially dangerous enough to set up an alarm for it?" Sam replied sarcastically.

Sometimes Dean really envied his little brother's talent for bitchfacing, specially in moments like this, when he would have liked to pull one himself.

"We should ask Castiel," Kevin suggested. "If this is related to anything angelic, he should be aware of it. And Balthazar too. Also Gabriel when he ret-"

Call for the Devil and he may appear, so goes the say. Perhaps it was also applicable to other celestial beings, because before the young prophet could finish his sentence, all the lightbulbs burst. Again.

"Fuck it! I'm really getting tired of this shit!" Dean yelled as soon as the emergency lights turned on.

"I'm actually surprised the emergency lights don't burst too," Jessica commented. "Do you know if they are protected by some specific sigils? Because at this rate, we could really use them…"

"Quite the opposite, my lady," the archangel's voice was heard near enough to startle her. "The lights explode precisely due to the many protections of this place. Or it could be because my sheer amazingness?"

"Gabriel!" Dean shouted at the figure that had appeared in the barely illuminated room. "You douche, don't think you're not paying for the lightbulbs, because sixty-three of those every time you show up isn't exactly cheap!"

"Really, Deano, you disappoint me greatly. And here I brought you a gift straight from Hell that I'm sure not a million of lightbulbs could ever compare to," Gabriel snorted, carefully readjusting his posture to free a hand, and making it obvious that he was carrying someone in his arms. "But alright, if these electric appliances mean so much to you… anything is better than listening to your whining."

The archangel snapped his fingers, and immediately all the lightbulbs were back as good as new. In the new light, everyone could see clearly the unconscious girl in his arms.

Dean stared at her, and couldn't look away anymore. All colour drained from his face, taking a pale hue similar to the recently saved girl's skin. Sam gasped beside him, but he already had enough trouble getting his own lungs to keep working. The world around him disappeared, all his attention focused on the girl: the blood stain in her pink shirt, the honey-blond hair, her mother's full lips, her father's nose… _his_ nose. She even had John's chin, just like Adam, only a bit more delicate and feminine.

"I think you know each other," Gabriel spoke with intention. "She told me that her name was Emma."

 _Please, don't let him hurt me!_

Those words, said in a pleading voice, had since long tormented the hunter. As he attempted a step closer to the archangel still holding her in his arms, Dean felt how heavily his heart was beating, and in a matter of seconds complete darkness swallowed him whole.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Balthazar walked soundlessly, his expensive brand shoes making no noise in the wet street. He went through the smog that came from a sewer cover, grimacing at the bad smell that his stylish coat would be impregnated with. He was so incredibly tempted to abandon his current task and get back to his luxurious home, an inheritance from the very nice guy that had been his vessel, with his wonderful jacuzzi and cozy sheets and a mountain of clean clothes.

But somehow he resisted. At this moment he was an angel with a mission. It was only that said mission was making Balthazar remember all the reasons why he had deflected in the first place, right after their garrison descended to Hell and saved the so-called Righteous Man.

The night was chilly too, not that he was actually bothered by the cold, but the smell of the slums was a totally different matter. What could an anunnaki channel be doing in a foul place like this? But Balthazar was sure he had gotten it right. He could feel the pulse of an angelic calling. It was likely just a few metres away, by the next street, or the next corner, or…

Out of nowhere, he was roughly grabbed by the neck and shoved against the wall.

"Hey, hands off the goods!" he protested, not really caring for the sudden attack.

A shiny dagger was pressed to his neck. Just for a moment Balthazar assessed the situation seriously, but after checking that the weapon wasn't an angel blade, he relaxed again. Then he observed his assailant: no immediate danger there either, it was barely a boy. Well, better said a teenager. A stronger-than-normal one, but still no match for an angel. And look at that! If his senses didn't lie, it was exactly the person he was looking for!

"Oh, what a coincidence!" Balthazar smiled. "You spared me the trouble of keeping chasing you, kid. Much obliged!"

"Who are you?" the boy snarled, ignoring his words. "Why are you chasing me? Are you a hunter?"

"No hunter here, kid, but I guess you could said I'm in a mission for two of them."

The boy narrowed his eyes, hesitant of what to do, but not loosening his grip on Balthazar's neck nor his dagger a single bit.

"Look, whatever money they offered you, I can't let myself get caught. Whatever lies they have told you, they aren't true. I don't want to kill you or anyone else, so please, leave me alone."

"Hey, slow down. You're making assumptions that aren't true either," Balthazar said in a calming tone. "I was looking for you, but not with an ill intent. I don't even know who you are, but we have need of you for something extremely important."

The boy didn't seem convinced at all, but at least he let go of him.

"You smell different," he stated, confused.

"It's called 'taking a shower once in a while', kid. You should try it. No offense, but you stink almost as bad as the rats in this… this rat's hole."

"Not all of us have grown up with a full wallet, old man," the boy grunted, clearly regarding the fancy robes that the angel was wearing.

"I'm not an… wait, I actually am. Whatever, it doesn't matter. Listen, this is going to sound kinda lame, but… well, here it goes. My name is Balthazar, and I'm an angel of the Lord," he introduced himself, opening his arms in a mocking greeting. "There, I said it. Your name now, please?"

"Angels don't exist," the boy rebuffed, even more distrustful.

"Yeah, we get that a lot. Specially now that we're about to go extinct. But it's the truth."

The boy took a step back, inspecting the silver-eyed angel from head to toes.

"And why would an angel chase me to the slums?" he asked, on guard. "What do you need from me?"

"Oh, that's quite a long and complicated story, and I'd prefer not discussing it in this nasty place. Would you mind if I kidnap you?"

"Yes, I'd actually mind. You said that you were on a mission for two hunters? Then let me tell you that hunters tend to kill people like me, so no, thank you very much. I'm a kitsune, and I also have a mission of my own."

"Really? What mission is that?"

The boy looked away, tense, but he seemed to decide that there was no harm in confessing to an angel.

"Revenge. Years ago a hunter killed my mother. We lived in peace, without hurting anyone, but… I fell sick, and… my mum took care of me. That hunter didn't even give her a chance."

"Most hunters are like that," Balthazar nodded in sympathy. "But the ones I'm doing this for are different, I promise you. The Winchesters aren't like most. If you ask them, they even could help you find this other hunter you're searching for."

And the mention of the surname, the boy's head snapped back at him. Eyes wide in surprise, he almost couldn't believe what he had just heard.

"Are you sure of that?"

"Yes! You don't have to worry, kid. Dean and Sam are a pain in the ass more times than not, but they're good people. They won't hurt you," the angel assured him, offering his hand. "Now, will you come with me, please?"

The boy immediately grabbed Balthazar's hand, surprising him at how easily he accepted.

"I'm Jacob Pond," the boy finally introduced himself. "And I'm eager to meet this… Dean Winchester."

* * *

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	25. Chapter 24

_I can't believe it… With this chapter, for the first time I've reached the 100,000 words milestone! O_O_

* * *

 **Chapter 24**

The first thing Emma noticed, even before opening her eyes, was the smell. Or better said, the lack thereof. In Hell everything stunk, mostly of blood and rotten flesh, but there was also the thick, stagnant smell of heavy parfum that demons used to try and disguise their sulphuric odour whenever they had business in the floor above. But now there was no smell.

The second thing was the noise. When she had been abandoned in her cell, not a single sound had reached Emma ever again. Not even the painful screams or the pleading cries that Hell was supposedly full of. It was like being buried alive inside a mountain, she couldn't hear anything. But now there were a few muted sounds reaching her ears: someone talking, something fidgeting on a chair, someone breathing…

Wait a moment, _she_ was breathing! And breathing is not something you do after dying, right? She may be only three days old, but she knew that.

"Ah-haa…" Emma gasped, finally opening her eyes and sharply sitting up on the bed she had been laying on.

"Hey, you're awake," a kind voice spoke to her.

Emma turned her head and saw a blond boy on a chair, with clear blue eyes and gentle smile, staring at her closely. He looked more or less her same apparent age.

"Welcome back to the land of the living! I know how strange it is, and believe me, that's not a figure of speech. My name is Adam."

The confused and frightened girl licked her dry lips in a nervous gesture so much like Dean's.

"Who are you?" Emma asked, and Adam flinched a little at how raspy her voice sounded.

"There's water right next to you, if you're thirsty," Adam pointed at the plastic bottle on the nightstand.

The amazon looked warily at it, but almost immediately grabbed it and drank the water to the last drop.

"Who are you?" she repeated, wiping her mouth and sounding clearer now. "Are you a demon?"

"No demon could reach this place, unless purposely allowed. You're safe here in the bunker, Emma. I'm just a human. Adam. And… I'm also your uncle."

Emma carefully looked around the room, on guard of the company she had after he introduced himself as her uncle, despite his peaceful demeanour. They were alone, but she could hear noises near enough.

"I only met my uncle for ten seconds, and he was the one that killed me."

"Yeah, that was Sam, not me. I was told the story yesterday, when the archangel Gabriel rescued you and brought you here. If it makes you feel any better, they got me killed too, more or less. It runs in the family, nothing personal," Adam joked. "I've been only recently revived, just like you."

He stopped talking, giving the girl a chance to assimilate the info. Emma stared at him intently, barely knowing where to even start asking.

"You've said… that someone rescued me," she spoke low, almost whispering. "Since the day I died, I was already in a cell. Never saw anyone, never heard anything… but I understood that I was dead. And then, suddenly, there was a warm golden… bluish light lifting me off the ground. Was that the archangel?"

"Yes, that was Gabriel," Adam nodded, becoming serious. "You're not in Hell anymore, Emma. There's a big menace looming over this world though, and Dean and Sam are trying to avoid it. But they need help, and after casting some sort of spell… well, you and me and several others were the ones chosen to help."

"Were you also in Hell?"

"No, I actually was in Heaven," he smiled. "But I'm happy to be here nonetheless. My brothers and I… we didn't have much time together."

"But you've said that they got you killed!" she blurted out, bewildered.

"That's true," Adam admitted. "But it's also true that they didn't want it to happen. And back then they did try to help me, but it was already too late for me."

Emma remembered very well her death. Leaving the amazons' lair with a mission to accomplish that she didn't really understand, scared of failing… scared of succeeding. How very shamefully she hadn't been able to contain her tears when facing her prey, her father. A man who hunted creatures like her, not fully human; who instead of killing Emma in the spot, had ordered her to run away, offering a choice; and when he finally had aimed a gun at her, his hand was so unstable that the killing shot had needed to come from another hunter.

 _Please, don't let him hurt me!_

How disgraceful that had been. At least the other warrioresses never knew how weak and pathetic Emma was, or so she hoped.

"Emma," Adam called her, raising from the chair and opening the door. "This bedroom is yours now, but at the other side of this door… there are more people. I'm not the only one who has been watching over you. In fact, we're kind of crammed here, but nobody wants to hurt you. So take your time, and when you feel ready to come out, you can meet everyone. There's a maze of hallways to conquer first, but at the end you'll find us. And a plate of food too."

The boy who claimed to be her other uncle left her alone then, leaving the door open. Light and the distorted rumour of voices reached her. Emma stood up slowly. Her heart was beating loudly, every muscle in her body tense and ready to react at any danger, but she sensed none. When she peeked out of her just-acquired bedroom, only the voices becoming slightly clearer indicated the amazon that there was, in fact, someone else in… wherever she was.

She walked down the hallway, carefully listening to the voices. By now it was obvious that some sort of argument about her was happening, but it was difficult to know who was saying what, specially when she didn't know yet the people yelling. Well, not all of them… but there were two voices that Emma distinctly recognized as soon as she hid behind the doorframe to the war room.

"Dean, I don't really think that's a good idea. If you would listen just for a min-"

That was her uncle. Not the younger one that had welcome Emma, but the other. The one who killed her, Sam.

"No, shut the fuck up! I don't _want_ to listen to you."

And that… that was the man who had spawned her: Dean Winchester, the deadliest hunter alive.

"Yeah, that much is evident. But what you intend to do isn't just your usual recklessness, but outright suicidal. She was sent to kill you, Dean! It's tradition… no, scratch that. It's _law_ for them! You can't possibly keep her around!"

"Don't talk about her like some kind of pet," Dean grunted, pointing a threatening finger to his brother. "She's her own person, and I'm not throwing her away again. Not this time, Sam."

"Oh, great. Then let's allow her to complete her task and happily go back to her bunch of monsters," Sam snarled.

Hearing this accusation, Emma felt resentment boiling in her and couldn't help but finally reveal herself.

"A monster?" she repeated, immediately silencing the two men. "That's what you think I am?"

Sam didn't say anything and barely glanced at her for a second, as if he couldn't stand her mere presence; Dean instead looked at her intently, eyes wide open in a mix of awe and dread, and swallowed hard.

"Hello, Emma," he said nervously, expecting anything.

"Hello, Father."

For the littlest moment, Dean let the desolation he felt inside to show in his face, but promptly masked it back. That dispassionate 'Father' was a completely empty word to the amazon, it didn't mean anything to her. It didn't have a single ounce of the significance that such a term held for Dean and Sam about John Winchester, a heartbroken man who fiercely protected his sons, fiercely trained them, and fiercely loved them.

"Technically speaking, amazons aren't monsters," an annoying voice was heard, and nextly Gabriel walked in from the kitchen, eating a plate of dessert that Dean very much hoped wasn't his pie. "Only descendants of Eve are monsters per se, while amazons are enhanced humans due to their pledge to Harmonia. They aren't even sired but born, can be killed like any other human, and live off on normal food. So no, lil' lady, you're certainly no monster right now, but depending on your future actions… you might become one eventually."

Emma studied the newcomer. There was something strange about him, but it was difficult to pinpoint what exactly. So this was an archangel?

"Gabriel, are you sure…?" Sam tried to ask.

"Yes I am, Sammich. Sorry if the fact isn't to your liking, but gentlemen, here I have the pleasure of introducing 'Cherubim' to you. Check her nape yourself if you want… or if she lets you."

Her older uncle seemed to consider it for a moment, but in the end he remained in his seat, staring at her distrustfully.

"Gabriel?" Emma uttered tentatively, ignoring the Winchesters and coming closer to the celestial being. "Adam told me that you rescued me from Hell. Is that true?"

"Yes, lil' lady! Amazing Me descended to the depths of the pit and brought you back to the light," he nodded, opening his arms in a grandeur gesture. "But please, don't fall in love with me out of gratitude, as difficult as that may be. I'm already a compromised man."

The girl frowned a bit, not fully understanding the meaning of the advice. Love? What did that even refer to? But either way, she got down on a knee and bowed her head.

"Now I'm indebted to you," she grumbled. "Despite my discontent, I must serve you until my debt is repaid. It's shameful for an amazon to owe anything to anyone, specially a man."

There was silence for a minute, such was everyone's astonishment. Even Gabriel looked unsure how to respond. When Emma stood up again, only Sam dared to say:

"Oh, yes. Totally her own person, Dean."

The older hunter was about to reply something when suddenly the lightbulbs flickered, tale-telling Balthazar's arrival like usually. The moment the angel made himself visible, a second figure that came with him launched at Dean. It was only thanks to an entire life of fighting things bumping in the night that he grabbed in time the wrist of his attacker, stopping the knife directed to his throat. Both Dean and the assailant fell to the floor in a heap of rage and limbs due to the impetus of the attack.

"Dean!" Sam hollered worriedly.

"What the hell?" Dean cursed, hastily switching their positions and pressing a knee against the other's sternum, effectively cutting his air supply. "What the fuck are you doing, kid?"

Because it was a kid, not looking older than Jack or Claire, or any other of the children that were currently under the bunker roof.

"I'm taking my revenge on you, Dean Winchester!" the kid groaned rasply, attempting to breathe. "For killing my mother!"

"Ok, Montoya Junior. Calm the fuck down," Dean ordered, getting off the boy and standing over him, carefully measuring his movements in case he intended to jump on him again. "Thaz, care to explain this?"

"As much as he told me, his name is Jacob Pond," the silver-eyed angel answered, not really caring. "He's in a revenge crusade against the big bad hunter that cruelly killed his innocent mum when he was little, or something like that. Considering his greeting, I'll assume you're said hunter, Dee. Congrats!"

Dean cursed under his breath again, rubbing a hand down his face and walking around like a caged animal.

"Yeah, I remember him. Years ago he swore that I'd be the only one he'd ever kill, and for his own sake I hope that he stuck to his promise," he said, earning a hateful look from the boy. "He's a kitsune whelp. How did you even find him?"

"Anunnaki channel," Balthazar simply shrugged. "The 'Dominion' one."

"Just my luck," the hunter sighed, sarcasm dripping of his voice. "The only two kids in Earth that wish to kill me, happen to be part of the people we need to keep around the most. Really fucking awesome."

"I didn't _wish_ to kill you," Emma rebuffed, not knowing what was in motion there. "I _had_ to. I was instructed to do so. What else did you expect me to do?"

Her words, said far from the intention of being comforting at all, still brought a tiny hope to Dean's heart. Perhaps this could work after all? He looked at Sam almost smugly, but the younger Winchester snorted at him, and instead chose to focus his attention on the boy.

"So, you're Jacob?" he spoke to him with a kind and sorrowful voice, completely different to the tone used when referring to his unwanted niece. "I'm Sam. Your mother and I, we used to be friends, somehow. I'm sorry that I couldn't protect her better."

"Sam. I know who you are," Jacob nodded, a bit calmer than before. "Mum told me about you. He said that you were a good man who cared about people's heart, opposite to most hunters. How is it that you're brothers with the man that killed her?"

"I... it was my fault, Jacob. I tried to get Dean off her trail, but in the end it didn't... it didn't work out. My brother didn't trust Amy, despite promising me that he would let her go. I should have made sure that you were safe, but I didn't think... We're hunters, Jacob. Sorry for saying it like this, but hunting unhuman creatures is what we do."

"She wasn't a monster. There must be exceptions!" the boy shouted, enraged.

"There are," Sam agreed, saddened. "To me, your mother was one of them. But she wasn't for Dean, because she had already killed."

Jacob looked at him, and then at Dean. There was clear fury, resentment and frustration painted on his face. His hand still grabbed firmly the knife, his breathe was labored. An unbreakable will to succeed in his goal was emanating almost visibly from each one of his pores.

"I hate you," he spoke directly to the older hunter, carefully putting away the weapon. "And I'm going to kill you. Whatever this is about, at any given chance... I'll try."

Dean didn't answer anything, but the surly look on his face was enough sign of how seriously he was taking the threat.

"Let me get this right," Gabriel's inopportune joking voice flooded the tense atmosphere. "So Deano killed Sam's lady friend against his wishes, and then Sammich killed Dean's daughter out of spite? Gosh, does this family need some hardcore therapy..."

"It's not the same!" Sam defended himself, shooting a dreadful glance at Emma. "She was going to kill him!"

"Yeah, but given the case I could fight her back! You can't say that about the people Amy killed for a piece of them."

"Amazons kill on regular basis, Dean. As tradition! Amy only wanted to save her son."

"Emma tried because she was taught and ordered to. Nobody told your friend to go kill anyone."

"Guys, please. GUYS!" surprisingly, it was Balthazar who called them to attention. "Can't believe I'm being the responsible one, but... don't you think there are more important things to discuss here? Really, no wonder Castiel always looks so stressed. Shouldn't someone explain to these children what's happening and why have we collected them? Because there's still the 'Angel' one missing, and the sooner we find him or her, the sooner I can be on my merry way again."

"I second that," Gabriel supported his younger brother.

Both hunters shut up and nodded, getting their shit together. Dean stared at Emma and gulped hard, not really caring about the kitsune boy. Sam would surely take care of him, but he had more important things to sort out with the young amazon. Feeling a cold grip in his heart, Dean braced himself for what was waiting ahead of him.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The relaxing sound of waves was something he was really going to miss. Since arriving in Australia, and even before he had made contact with his mother, Jesse had taken a liking to swimming in the ocean. The fluid motion of water, the salty taste and the exertion of muscles… There was nothing like that sensation, not even teleporting. It was a feeling of merging with everything.

"Mum, are you ready?"

"Yes, I've finished," Julia answered smiling, closing her huge but only suitcase. "Not that I ever had that much anyway. Now I'm thankful for it."

"Don't you miss the north hemisphere?"

"I didn't leave anything back there. Nothing important, I mean. Only fear and loneliness."

Jesse held out his arms and hugged his mother. Her delicate frame had gained some stance and balance since she reunited with him and they started caring for each other, but she was still a frail-looking woman.

"I love you, Mum."

"I love you too, Jesse. You're my son."

The boy diligently loaded their meagre luggage on Julia's van truck and sat beside her. She took the wheel, but before starting the engine she asked:

"Are you sure it's okay to take the car with us? Maybe your friend's parents won't like it."

"Jack told me that there's a big garage in his house, with more than enough space. I don't think it's going to be a problem."

"Does he already know that we're arriving today?"

"Yes, I told him. And apparently, there are more people who got these strange symbols burned on their napes."

"Don't remind me," Julia sighed, taking his hand in comfort and closing her eyes. "You gave me such a scare! Never before had anything like that happened to you. When you started to bleed out of nowhere and fell unconscious in my arms I didn't know what to do."

"I'm fine, Mum. We'll be ok once we meet with the others."

"I certainly hope so, Jesse," she whispered.

So many things had changed since his childhood days. He barely remembered his adoptive parents, the couple that had taken him in only to leave him alone more times than not. It wasn't like he resented them: Jesse recalled being well fed, with a nice bedroom and several toys, but also more loneliness as time went by and he grew up enough to take care of himself. He remembered feeling cold inside.

But then he had met two hunters and an angel, and from one minute to the next everything had changed. Jesse had learned the truth, he had learned about himself. There was sadness and fear, abandonment hurting like a hole in his chest, and even more loneliness. Hiding from people because he didn't understand his erratic abilities had been painful, but it had been necessary to prevent hurting someone inadvertently. Hunger and filth had been normal for him… until his mum called out to him for the first time.

Jesse remembered that day as a sunny bright one.

"How far do you want to go?" Julia asked him, interrupting his trip down memory lane.

"Far enough where there are no more huts," he answered, looking out the window to the dirt road. "Where nobody can see a truck disappear."

"Well, it's not like anyo-"

 _SSCREEEEECCHH!_

A sudden massive bubble of dust blew up right in front of them, the shockwave forcing Julia to dangerously manoeuvre the vehicle to avoid being overturn. The tires burned in the road, the brakes pulled to the max.

"Mum!" Jesse screamed, grabbing her arm with a hand and placing the other over the dashboard, making the car stop.

The motor turned off. They both gasped, breathing heavily. There was a figure ahead of them, its shape starting to come out of the dust. Despite looking human, Jesse knew right away that it was a fake. You cannot fool someone capable of seeing your true face, no matter how good the disguise is.

"Mum, stay in the car," he told her, unfastening his belt.

"What?!" Julia shrieked, worrying. "Where are you going?"

"That thing isn't human. We need to get it away from us before going to Jack's."

The boy hopped off the car, cautiously watching the creature that had charged at them. Jesse had never seen anything like it. Vampires, werewolves, djinni, shape-shifters and even some skinwalker here and there… he had seen at least one of each and let them go, they weren't his problem. Hunters existed for a reason after all, and considering that he himself would quite surely be within their field of action, he preferred not to mess with them and remain out of their radar. But _this_ , oh… this totally wasn't any usual prey.

It looked somehow funnily cute. A young man, possibly in his late twenties or early thirties, with tanned olive skin. A cordial smile on chubby cheeks, adorned with dimples, and thin eyes. It reminded Jesse of the people living in the Pole that he had studied at school.

"Look at this," he talked in a strong accent. "At least you, I've been able to locate. Not exactly what I wanted, but a cambion is certainly a prize as good as any other."

"I feel at a disadvantage," Jesse replied getting closer to the thing, but not stopping touching the car for even a second. "You know what I am, but I don't know what are you."

"Really, wouldn't you be the first?" and the creature, unbelievably, laughed. "Up until now, necessary introductions have eluded me… which is something that actually baffles me a little. But I'll humour you: my name is Legion, and I'm what is called a shedim."

If the creature expected some kind of terrified reaction, it was left waiting, because none of that meant a thing to Jesse.

"What is this, nothing at all? Demon child, you greatly disappoint me!" he tsk-ed. "Did you forget to do your homework?"

"My homework consists in maths or literature, sometimes history or chemistry. It isn't about supernatural monsters."

"How could someone like you not possess vast knowledge about its own?" Legion scoffed, not amused anymore. "For a second you made me doubt the usefulness of adding you to my being… but well, I'm hungry. An ignorant half-demon is still better than no demon at all."

"You feed on demons?" Jesse frowned, attempting to figure out what the shedim was saying.

"I _should_ be feeding on demons, but they are nowhere. Since I was released, I've barely had three or four bites! If I had known that Hell was so low on numbers, I wouldn't have roasted that last Prince so fast. I've been cornered to guzzle a leviathan out of hunger!"

A mythological picture of a leviathan showed up in Jesse's mind, but for some reason he didn't think it was the same as what the shedim was referring to.

"So now you have come to eat me?"

"See, perhaps you're not so stupid after all!"

"I might not… but you are, if you think that I'm simply going to let myself being devoured. _Halem atassar nír kadù!_ "

Fast as lightning, Jesse threw a wave of energy against the shedim, creating a mirror shield. Because yes, information about ancient beings may or may not be difficult to dig up, but magic? That was another story. There were hundreds, thousand of books he had learned from. Most of them had been silly texts without actual power or knowledge, but also a few of them have been valuable treasures. With his imperfect and erratic abilities, magic had been the best way to learn how to control them.

"Jesse, what's happening?!" Julia shouted, anguished.

"Don't worry, Mum!" he shouted back, holding the barrier. "Get ready, I'm going to teleport us right now!"

"No, wait! It's too much at once, you'll get hurt again!"

"We'll be ok, Mum," Jesse smiled confidently at her. "I promise you."

Holding up the spell, the cambion reached out with his mind in search of his friend.

"Jack, can you hear me? It's me. We're about to go, but I'm fighting an unexpected intruder."

 ** _Yes, I hear you. Are you alright? Do you need help?_**

"No, I can alone. I just need to connect with you and your exact location, so we don't get lost. Are you ready?"

 ** _I am. Any time, you can come._**

Holding up the protective spell until the very last second, Jesse established with Jack where to teleport the van truck, his mother and himself. With a flash of light, everything in front of the shedim disappeared. Its angered roar was the last thing he heard.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_

 **Now that every anunnaki channel has appeared, let's recall them all:**

 **Jack** \- Archangel - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - **Adam** \- Principality

 **Kaia** \- Authority - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - **Emma** \- Cherubim

 **Claire** \- Seraphim - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - **Jacob** \- Dominion

 **Alex** \- Throne - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - **Jesse** \- Angel

 **Patience** \- Virtue


	26. Chapter 25

_In the beginning, this was supposed to be a short fanfic... but it grew out of hand, and by now I don't know where it will end! :D_

* * *

 **Chapter 25**

When Jack received Jesse's mental call, he immediately jumped out of bed and ran, not minding being in his pajamas nor crossing Dean in the hallway.

"So your rooms are 13 and 14," he was explaining to Emma and Jacob. "From 11 to 22 there are only bedrooms. The locker room is this way, but don't use all the shower stalls at the same time if you want hot water; three is the max. The toilets are just opposite and... Hey, where's the fire?"

The annoyed yell for almost running over them didn't stop the nephilim, who at least mumbled an apology before disappearing around the corner.

"Sorry, Dean, but my friend is coming over right this moment with his mum and they might be in trouble!" echoed through the bunker. "I need to help them!"

"The what are you saying?" Dean grumbled, leaving the other two children to go after Jack. "What friend? Coming where?"

He met Sam and Patience in the library. The younger hunter was guiding the psychic girl through the lore books, while Kevin had somehow convinced Claire to let him teach her chess, under Castiel's encouragement. Everyone looked up startled at the entrance door when Jack slammed it open, Dean in tow. A second later, some alert was activated on the panel in the war room, warning all the people in the bunker about an unwelcome guest. In the map table, the red dot that had been steadily heading to Australia suddenly changed direction to the opposite way.

"Dean, what's the matter?" Sam asked, worried.

"I don't know yet!" was all he got time to answer, before getting out too.

Alarmed, everyone got up and followed them outside in the dark. In a blink of reality, a warp of air, two people and a van truck appeared out of nowhere. After turning on the headlights, a woman hopped off the vehicle and rushed to grab a boy's hand.

"Jesse?" Jack grinned, taking a step to the boy. "Is that you?"

"Are you Jack?" the identified as Jesse guessed. "You're truly not a baby."

"I am! I mean Jack, not a baby. Nice to meet you!" he greeted his friend, holding out a hand.

Jesse shook the offered hand with his free one, at the same time squeezing the woman's in a calming attempt, not sure which one of them actually needed it more.

He knew this people; well, some of them, and his mother knew them too. This didn't mean it was a joyous occasion to reunite, not at all. By some random or fated chance, their paths had crossed again, but who knew how this would end?

"Oh my… stop talking!" a dark-skinned girl pleaded, gripping her head like in pain. "Please… thinking! Stop thinking so loudly, you two!"

Everyone looked at her for a second, baffled.

"Sorry," Jesse apologized, bewildered. "I didn't know that somebody else could hear us. We'll be more careful. Are you a telepath?"

"Psychic," Patience corrected him, staring suspiciously. "And this isn't the first time it happens. You two pretty much drilled in my brain during your conversations. Since Jack is a nephilim, what are you then?"

"Cambion," Castiel intervened, wary of the boy but with no threatening intent whatsoever. "I recognize you. When I was under Heaven's command and attempted to carry out my duty on you, you transformed me into a figurine."

"Cambion?!" Sam exclaimed, astonished, looking at the boy and the woman, remembering their names. "Jesse… Julia?"

"Yes," she answered, voice nervous and smile trembling, and gripping her son's hand tighter. "Sam, Dean. Hello."

"Great, another freak to the circus," Claire whispered sarcastically beside Kevin, without any real malice and making him snicker.

"How… how are you…? _Why_ are you here?" Dean asked, completely perplexed. "After you gave us the slip?"

"Hum, well…"

"Jesse Turner," Castiel interrupted whatever the boy was going to say, slowly taking a couple of steps towards him, trying not to look menacing. "I think I know the reason, but would you allow me to inspect your nape, please?"

Jesse fidgeted a little, nervous, but eventually he nodded and turned around, lowering his head. Castiel came to his side and slightly pulled down the collar of the shirt, revealing a burned mark. Being in the middle of the night, the van truck headlights were insufficient for the others to see it too, but for him the angelic pulse was unmistakable.

"He is the 'Angel' one," he confirmed, letting him go. "At it seems, we are already complete."

"WHAT?" both hunters shouted, incredulous.

"It sounds to me you're still in need of a superhero," the cambion attempted to joke, trying to disguise his anxiety.

"You're a superhero, Jesse?" Jack continued to grin excitedly, failing to read the tense atmosphere. "Like Batman?"

"Uh, maybe? Who knows? Even a half-demon should have the chance to prove himself, right? To make the right choices?" he gulped and looked intently at Sam, repeating the words that he remembered the man saying to him years ago.

"I thought you didn't want to be involved in the fight."

"I didn't. And I still don't, but… back then, I already chose to run away. This time, I'm choosing to stay and help."

"We can bunk together, like the others!" Jack chirped happily.

Dean breathed deeply, his mind rapidly assimilating this turn of events and forming a plan, deciding what step to take next.

"Either way, thanks for coming, kiddo," he told the cambion sincerely. "Julia, are you staying with us too?"

"If… if it's possible, I'd like to, please."

"I have nothing against it, but you gotta know that we're pretty much a boarding school right now. Yeah, teenagers everywhere, but if you're willing to deal with them, there's still an empty bedroom left. I won't deny that for myself, I'll be grateful for having one more adult around," he smiled welcomingly, seeing the woman accept the invitation. "Ok then, let's get this rolling. I'll drive your car to the garage, are the keys on? Sam, go call Thaz and Gabriel, tell them to bring Rowena along. Jack, show them to their rooms, if Jesse is really bunking with you. Kevin, go look in the wardrobe and fish out some more deadman's robes for them, in case they want to relax under the shower; and extras for Emma and Jacob too, actually. Claire, fetch everyone to the library, ok? I don't think anyone is sleeping yet. And Patience, could you ask Jess to warm up some food, please?"

Dean being used to command and the others used to be commanded, everyone obeyed and went back inside the bunker, Jesse and Julia following them. Except Castiel. He hadn't been given any order.

"Dean, is there anything you want me to do?" he asked, wondering why he was the only one without a task.

"It's enough if you keep me company, Cas," Dean couldn't help to flirt, looking at him while opening the car door. "But you can carry the luggage later."

"Luggage?" Castiel repeated, before noticing the few baggages in the van truck. "Oh, sure. I will help."

He went to the opposite car door, making sure not to touch Dean when passing beside him. This didn't go unnoticed by the hunter, who lost his smile.

"Cas, is everything ok?" Dean called him before any of them could get in the car.

"Yes, I think so," Castiel frowned in confusion. "Why would it not be?"

"I don't know, but…" he slowly walked to the other side of the car, stopping in front of the angel. "Look, I understand we're deep in so much crap, but this couple of days you've been… different, somehow. Since our date? Yeah, I still don't know what went wrong, but normally you're always fluttering in my personal space, and… last night was the first time that you went to your own room in a while."

"Emma's arrival was an extreme shock to you, Dean," Castiel excused himself, looking away. "You even lost consciousness. I considered it best for you to rest alone."

Dean gulped, unsure if to say something. The seraph had been hugely surprised by the existence of his amazon daughter, but beyond that he hadn't expressed any disgust or rejection, thank Chuck. An immense relief had flooded Dean at the moment, but perhaps he was getting ahead of himself? Maybe it was actually bothering his feathered friend in some way?

"Listen, yes it's weird, but it's not different than with Jack, Cas." He raised a hand, intending on placing it on the other's shoulder in a affectionate gesture. "And…"

A smacking sound resonated in the night before he could even graze the angel's trenchcoat. For a second, Dean wasn't sure what had happened, but the stinging sensation in his hand was more than a clear answer.

He had been rejected.

"Cas?" he barely uttered the name, lowering his hand and feeling ice inside his chest.

Castiel snapped out of it, as much horrified as the hunter for what he had unconsciously done. Already fretting, he stared at Dean apologetically, seeing how much he had hurt the Righteous Man. Not physically, but the hand that he had shoved away was clenching, and he could perceive Dean's heart rate increasing, his breathing picking up in anxiety, eyes wide in dread. He saw him gulping, and… oh no, oh please no. Castiel could see it clear as dawn in his beloved's eyes, his walls building up, trying to hide his heart behind them, where he surely hoped nobody would harm him.

Just one time, and it had been enough. One single mishap and he had already broken Dean's heart.

"No, Dean!" Castiel implored, reaching out for him, but he stepped back. "Please, I am sorry! I did not mean… Please, do not go!"

"What… what are you saying now, 'don't go'? You're the one who pushed me away!" Dean yelled, trying but failing to control himself. "Is that it, Cas? Are you already tired of me? Bored of this human experimenting? Because if that's the case, you could have just said so, man. Not like I won't understand…"

"Dean, do not start this onto me again," Castiel warned him, abandoning his beseeching behaviour and setting in a more overbearing demeanour. "Do not dare to disparage yourself as any less than wondrous, not in my presence. I will not allow it."

"Yeah, sure," Dean scoffed. "You say that, but you're already getting far from me, not wanting me to touch you…"

Castiel huffed, frustrated. His human wasn't listening. It was his own fault, of course, he knew it was. During their date he had let his own insecurities get him, and now Dean was paying the price. Talking it out wouldn't do, at least not until the Winchester calmed down. So it was time for action, insecurities be damned.

Grabbing Dean by the neck, he kissed him roughly.

Dean was still sputtering nonsense, so when the angel forced his tongue inside his mouth, he accidentally bit his lip. This didn't deter Castiel, though. Not even a complaint, focused as he was into kissing the Righteous Man until making his head spin. And that was no easy feature, considering the hunter's vast experience, but Castiel always gave his all in everything he did. He pushed Dean against the car door in case he attempted to get away, tangling their legs together and sneaking an arm around his waist, fitting their bodies together almost from head to toe.

Dean could barely breath under the loving assault. His first thought had been resisting, shoving Castiel away like he had done to him a minute ago, but… fuck, the instant he felt his lips tingling due to the seraph's stubble he was lost. Who would have imagined that such a foreign sensation was addictive? It was making him hot and bothered all over, and having an unyielding celestial tongue in his mouth was so not helping.

"Cas…" he moaned, eagerly kissing him back, cupping his face. "Cas, what the hell are you playing at?"

"I apologize, Dean," he said again, taming down the rhythm now that Dean was not in the mood of escaping anymore. "This has been a misunderstanding. I do not want to part ways with you, Dean, not now and not ever. But being with you is… is so elating, that sometimes it is extremely difficult to control myself. I am afraid of hurting you."

"Why would you hurt me? Cas, buddy, you need to explain these things to me."

Castiel let out a deep sigh, effectively ending the kiss. He rested his forehead in Dean's shoulder, which the man took advantage of to hug him.

"During our date, while we were kissing just like right now, I felt so happy and overwhelmed by you, Dean, that I… I felt the impulse of touching you, _really_ touching you. I mean with my real being. So I wrapped my wings around you, what is left of them at least. And… let's say it was not a good idea."

"You did what?" Dean said, surprised. "I don't remember… When was that?"

"How could you not remember?" Castiel locked eyes with him, a bit offended. "You turned around and shifted your shoulders, as if putting something off you. It was evident that my contact repulsed you."

"Chuckdammit, Cas, that wasn't…!" Dean grunted, finally understanding. "It's not what you think. I felt something scratching my back, and thought it was a twig or a bug. It was annoying me because I wanted to keep kissing you and… maybe other stuff too. I didn't know it was your wings! There's no repulsing part in you, Cas."

"Are you being truthful, Dean? Or are you only being sensitive about my feelings?"

"I care about your feelings, Cas, but I'm also telling the truth," Dean insisted, pecking him tenderly. "Next time you want to _really_ touch me, I'll know it's you and not a mood-breaking twig."

Castiel decided to believe him, having reassured him and also being reassured back. He leaned on him, finding comfort on his warmth, when he felt something hard poking his thigh. Looking down, he couldn't resist the temptation of teasing Dean a bit more.

"About the 'maybe other stuff too' that you have mentioned, Dean… what exactly did you have in mind?" he asked, very innocently moving his leg against the hunter's current problem. "Anything I can help you with?"

"Hey, stop that, you naughty angel," Dean laughed, letting go of him and surrounding the car, finally getting in. "Let's leave that battle for another day. As for tonight, you're coming back to my room, ok?"

The so-called naughty angel merely smiled.

"As you wish, Dean."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sam wondered when was the last time that the bunker was so full of people, if ever. All of them sitting in the library, the three tables and twelve chairs occupied, and also some of the armchairs. It was a strange image, considering that at first it had only been his older brother and him. The fact that one of the seats was being used by his very own resurrected soulmate only made it better, and he couldn't resist the grin that was trying to break on his face.

There was tension in the air, the kids looking at each other, curious about the new faces around. From his standing post at the end of the library, telescope behind him, Sam could see Claire's resentment painted on her face whenever she crossed eyes with Kaia, and the same could be said about Jacob towards Dean. He hoped that at least this first meeting would go peacefully.

"Ok everybody, let's make this fast and easy," Dean spoke from the other side, coming from the war room with an open notebook and a pen in his hands, Castiel after him. "There are too many of you currently here, so as lame as it sounds we're going to roll call, because who knows if there will be another chance? The sooner you know one another, the better. I'm Dean Winchester, hunter, and I'm pretty much the captain of this boat. This one next to me is Castiel, an angel of the Lord. Seraph, actually."

"Glad to make your acquaintance," he said politely.

"Now, for the rest of you, do you want to officially introduce yourselves?"

A few seconds of silence later, Sam decided to step in and try to break the ice.

"Hello, I'm Sam Winchester, Dean's younger brother. I'm also a hunter, and… a happily engaged man to the precious lady standing next to the lamp," he smiled flirtatiously. "So don't bother hitting on her, because she's already taken."

This caused a couple of muted giggles when Jessica moved from the lamp to him and tenderly kissed him.

"Just like he said, this adorable giant is already taken," she chuckled. "I'm Jessica Moore, but you can call me simply Jess. Nice to meet you all."

"Way to score, Sammich!" Gabriel cheered, taking a lollipop out of his mouth. "Never thought that someday I'd actually understand what 'Too much sugar' meant, but you two could give a lesson. Beware your diabetes, children! I'm the archangel Gabriel, by the way, but you can also call me Your Majesty if you prefer. Sadly, you're all too young to call me Sexy Beast without making me uncomfortable."

"I'm the third and obviously more attractive angel," Balthazar said next, stretching his legs over the armchair. "Balthazar is the name. And as much as I care, I'd prefer if you just leave me alone to my own mischief and don't call me at all, darlings. But I know that very likely you're going to do so anyway. I'm too charming, which I understand, thus I'll forgive you."

"I am feeling extremely embarrassed right now, Dean," Castiel whispered to the hunter's ear. "But not for myself."

"Yeah, welcome to the club," he nodded, before raising his voice. "Anyone who wants to make an introduction without shaming oneself?"

"I'll accept the challenge," Rowena answered, standing from her chair in the middle table and slightly bowing her head. "Nice to meet you, little ones. I'm Rowena MacLeod, proud Scottish witch. My son, Fergus, was the last King of Hell. Currently I'm in the path of redeeming myself, and that's the only reason why I'm helping these two hunters."

"Cough/liar/cough," Sam humorously muttered, hiding a smile behind his fist and earning an annoyed scowl from the redhead.

After the witch's presentation came another stalling, which soon enough irked the older hunter.

"Whatever, I'm not going to wait all night for you kiddos to untie your tongues. Really, what's with all this shyness? Just raise your hand when I call you," Dean complained, taking a brief look at the notebook. "Claire Novak, huntress. Alex Jones, medic supporter. Patience Turner, psychic. Kaia Nieves, avatar and dreamwalker. Kevin Tran, Prophet of the Lord. Adam Milligan, little brother and… hunter? Supporter? Your choice, man. Jack Kline, nephilim. Jesse Turner, cambion. Jacob Pond, kitsune. And Emma… amazon. That's all. Julia, you want to say anything about yourself?"

All gazes zeroed on her, the only person who was yet to make an introduction. The woman stood up, her hand never leaving Jesse's, and took a deep breath before speaking.

"Good evening. My… my name is Julia Wright," she said, willing the nerves out of her voice. "When I was young, I was possessed by a demon and gave birth to my son. I'm… I'm just a mother."

Nobody said a word after that, which eventually intimidated her to sit down again, but Sam understood. Demon possession was nothing extraordinary in their world, in the lives of all of them. Heard of more than once. But being 'just a mother'? Julia probably didn't have the slightest idea about how amazing that was, but the awed and forlorn looks in the children's faces spoke by itself.

Amelia died in her daughter's arms, after years of being apart. Celia had kidnapped Alex and almost turned her into a vampire. Tess had died of sickness when Patience was still little. Who knew what happened to the original Kaia's parents, but her mum was dead too. Linda had to say farewell to her son too many times already. Kate had been devoured by a ghoul. Kelly chose to die so her son could live. Amy had been killed for trying to heal her own. And Lydia… she very likely didn't even understand what a mum was supposed to be.

Sam swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat, thinking about the mother he had lost before he could even remember her. One of his most treasured memories was the one when they had travelled back in time and finally had the chance of meeting her, her younger self, before Dean and him were born.

"Mothers are the most awesome thing in the entire universe, Julia," he heard Dean say, apparently thinking very similar as him. "Please, never consider yourself 'just a mother' again. I hope that Jesse is aware of how lucky he is."

This made Julia nod a bit, smiling timidly.

"So… what are we supposed to do now?" Claire spoke. "You casted that whatever spell that gave us all free tattoos, and here we are. What's next?"

"What if I don't want to be part of this?" Jacob asked, glaring intently at Dean. "I'm only interested in one very specific goal."

"You've already been added to the mix, whelp," Gabriel responded in his place. "All nine of you carry an angelic symbol, which allows you to channel certain power. The plan is to use that power to save the world, generally speaking. You can't say 'No'."

"Oh, that really answers all my doubts, thank you," the kitsune replied sarcastically.

"You're welcome."

"Gabriel, Claire's is a valid question," Sam opined, getting the conversation back on track. "You obviously know a lot more than us about the anunnaki, so… please? What do we do now?"

The archangel sighed, bored, he but let go of his normal trickster persona and became serious.

"From here, there's not much you can actually do, besides the usual hunting part. These children have received a VIP card, so to speak. They're open channels, ready to assess the power, but said power needs a key. And those keys? Yes, I know where they are, more or less. All the red dots in the map?" Gabriel shook a hand towards Dean's direction, making him stand aside and clearing the view to the war room. "There you have them. Nine spots, one for each of the choirs. A concentration of angelic calling. Easy as pie! Go and harvest, the sooner the better."

"Why?" Dean asked, suspicious of the sudden rush.

"Because you may be the ones chosen to harness it, but it doesn't mean that other creatures won't sense it and covet it too. Or even humans."

"Dean!" Castiel called him, worry in his voice, standing by the map table. "One of the dots has changed colouration. Now it is purple."

"Great, it has already started," Gabriel rolled his eyes. "The keys should come directly to the ones they are destined to, that's why they have been moving until now. But if one has set a nest… it won't move anymore. You have to go there and grab it yourselves."

"Where is located, Cas?" Dean asked, coming to the angel's side.

"Tennessee," Claire answered before he could, inhaling sharply.

"That… is correct," Castiel confirmed, confused.

Everyone looked at her, surprised, and she being the most surprised of all.

"How did you know?" Alex asked her.

"I… I don't know. For a while today I've been feeling a… a tug, somehow. And right now, when I focused on it instead of ignoring, it was like a picture had been printed in my mind."

"That most probably means that it's the Seraphim key," Balthazar resolved. "She has to go there to collect it."

"Really? Just like that?" the blonde almost looked disappointed. "I expected it to be more thrilling, like a case."

"Perhaps not yet, but nothing is telling us there won't actually be a case when you arrive," Gabriel figured. "An angelic signal is difficult to resist, and has a wide range of creatures to affect."

"Hey, wait a moment," Dean intervened, taking back the lead. "If we're preparing for a case, we're not doing it when about to go to sleep. This needs time and a fresh mind, and also certain precautions. So all of you, kids, to bed right now. We'll discuss this tomorrow and set a plan."

Contrary to his expectations, not even one protest was heard. Really, what a weird batch of children.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	27. Chapter 26

_Readying to be back in hunting business..._

* * *

 **Chapter 26**

One by one, the youngsters got up and left for their rooms, until only the adults remained. Julia stood up too, intending to follow after Jesse, but Dean wasn't going to let her off the hook so easily. Many stranger-than-usual things were happening, and he was set on getting some answers right then and there.

"Julia, please stay. There are a couple of things I'd like to question you about, the sooner the better."

The woman stood still, looking at the doorframe of the war room, where her son was the last kid about to leave. He seemed worried and protective, but Julia tried to offer him a reassuring smile.

"It's okay, Jesse. Go to sleep, I'll be fine."

The cambion was clearly reluctant, but he obeyed and went with Jack.

"So…" she uttered nervously, sitting down again. "What do you want to ask?"

"Well, the first question is quite obvious, right? How are you and that kid together?"

"Because he's my son," Julia answered naturally, a bit bewildered. "Why wouldn't we be?"

Dean and Castiel crossed looks for a second, a silent conversation passing between them, and immediately the angel moved closer to the woman.

"Julia, would you allow me to perform a little evaluation on you, please?"

"An… an evaluation? What?"

"He means to check up if you've been brainwashed by your half-demon spawn," Gabriel so helpfully explained. "Don't worry, lady. It won't hurt."

Everyone in the room groaned at the tactless archangel.

"I've been not," Julia denied, shaking her head. "But… but I understand if you need proof to be sure. Yes, go ahead."

Very gently, Castiel put his hand on the top of her head and ran his grace through her. The blonde closed her eyes, as if the sensation was taxing on her body, but she didn't protest.

"She is clean," the angel stated after a few seconds, releasing her. "I did not detect a single speck of miasma in her being."

"Yay, claps for that," Balthazar cheered sarcastically, getting up from the armchair where he had been lounging. "I guess this is one of those things Naomi expects me to inform her about, so I'll take my leave now, before the melodrama breaks out. You need a ride, Reddie?"

"I…" Rowena hesitated, looking at everyone's faces before getting up too. "Actually yes, thank you. I don't think I can be much of help right now, if there's no magic involved. See you soon again, boys."

So the witch coquettishly wove an arm around the rogue's elbow, and next second they were gone. Castiel and the brothers looked doubtfully at the archangel, questioning if he was going to bail out too like usually.

"What?" Gabriel pouted. "Don't look at me like that! I'm staying here to help for the time being and there are parts of this story that I'm missing, like this one about the cambion. Kali would toast my pretty arse crispy if I went back without knowing what's going on."

"Julia," Jessica talked kindly to her, trying to get the conversation back on track. "What we'd like to know is how exactly you and your son got together again. As far as I've been told, Jesse disappeared from all radars after learning the truth."

"He did," the mother nodded. "Because he was just a child despite his origins, and he was scared. He didn't want to participate in something he couldn't fully understand."

And Julia would know, because she had been there too. Giving birth to a baby that she hadn't wanted, hadn't expected; a baby that could have been a monster. The fear and the responsibility had been too much for her to bear, and thus, for the next decade, she had lived feeling frightened and guilty every single day.

But being forced to face her fears had changed that. Possessed again by the same demon that had made her pregnant and never bothered to even cut off her consciousness, Julia had met the kid; and thanks to the abilities of said demon, she had seen the truth: there was a soul there. Yes, of course there was something rotten and twisted in the little boy, but also something pure and bright. He wasn't a monster, not yet at least. Jesse was still an innocent child.

In a sudden epiphany, Julia understood that he was her son as much as the demon's. But when she woke up and was herself again, it was already too late to become a proper mother.

"I started praying," she said, her eyes lost in remembrance. "Something I hadn't done in a long, long time."

"You prayed to him?" Sam asked, trying to follow.

"Not _to_ him, but _for_ him," she corrected. "Every single day, I prayed for Jesse to be okay. That he was safe, that he was warm and well fed. I hoped that he was a happy child."

"And then?"

"And then, one day he showed up at my doorstep, four or five months later. He was thin and dirty," Julia chuckled sadly. "Jesse told me he was hungry, and that it wasn't going to disappear simply because I wished so. Therefore, I cooked him a meal."

And she had also prepared a bath, and lent the boy some of her smallest clothes while she washed his, and even laughed a little when the cambion shared some of his recent adventures in Australia. Practically living alone in the wild, like some feral child, because he was scared of using his abilities. All the while, what surprised her the most was how unafraid she felt, despite having a small demon hybrid under her roof.

"After that I asked him to stay, but Jesse said that he couldn't because there were people trying to find him. Also not-people," Julia added in a somber tone. "So instead, I offered to go with him and settle together in another hemisphere. And… that's how we became family. We've been taking care of each other since then."

There was a minute of silence after the woman finished her story. Eventually, it was Castiel who broke it.

"How was possible for him to hear your prayers? That is not an ability I ever witnessed in a demon, and you were not even addressing him."

"I don't really know how it works," Julia answered apologetically. "It doesn't work just with anyone either. Jesse thinks it does between us because we have a biological connection, a link? But even as that, I can only talk, and he can only hear. It doesn't go both ways."

"But your kid has been communicating with Jack," Dean pointed out. "Must be a hybrid thing."

"And I guess Patience can hear them too, to some extent, maybe because she's a psychic," Jessica theorized. "She asked them to 'stop thinking so loud' outside."

"Did you… not know about them?" the woman inquired, nervously hugging herself. "Sorry, I thought that you knew. For days and days my son wouldn't stop talking and smiling about his new friend, his first _real_ friend, so I assumed…"

"It is alright, Julia," Castiel said in a comforting tone. "Jack does not have that many friends either. This might be good for both of them."

"Yeah, about that…" Gabriel spoke hesitantly, ruffling his hair. "Perhaps you should watch out for what two of the most powerful beings in existence might cause together. Mayhem wouldn't be a stretch too far, specially now that they have been appointed as anunnaki stands-in. No more grounding for stealing cookies from the jar before dinner."

Four killing looks told the archangel that his comment wasn't appreciated, probably because by reminding them of the obvious fact, he had also spoiled the lighter mood in which they had been sharing cute human feelings.

"Ok, I can tell when I've overstayed my welcome," he shrugged, standing from his seat. "I hope Kali is up to tend to my poor, bleeding heart."

"Gabriel, you should return to Heaven," Castiel adviced sternly.

"Sure, like that's gonna happen," Gabriel smirked, raising his hand. "Say bye-bye to lil' lady Emma for me!"

And snapping his fingers, the archangel disappeared. Castiel almost groaned in frustration.

"Since I've told you my story," Julia spoke, focusing all the attention in the room back to her, "I'd like if you had the same courtesy with me, since my son is somehow involved. So please tell me, what's happening here?"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

When Dean wobbled into the kitchen the next morning, one seraph of the Lord in tow, he mumbled an honest prayer to said Lord when the blessed smell of coffee greeted him. He was about to also thank his future sister-in-law for the breakfast (it was her turn) when he noticed that the kitchen was one angel fuller than usual.

"Thaz, you should give us the chance to at least _try_ to miss you sometimes, you know?" he grumbled, serving two mugs of coffee for himself and Castiel.

"Don't flatter yourself just because you're somehow a more decent company than Naomi, Dee," Balthazar answered, sipping from a cocktail glass.

"Oh, and here I was thinking that you enjoyed being her little spy."

"Dean, that is not a matter of joke," Castiel reprimanded him, bad memories coming to his mind.

The hunter looked away sheepishly, internally berating himself for bringing up such a thorny fact of the past that obviously still hurt. He decided to ignore Balthazar and his obnoxious winning grin, focusing instead on his brother.

"What's giving you wrinkles so early in the morning, Sammy?" he asked, looking at his stressed face.

"A monster," he replied, worried eyes scanning some papers in the counter and no humour in his voice. "A very ordinary yet important monster called _money_."

"Money, really?" Dean frowned, seating down in front of Jessica.

"Yes, money," Sam repeated behind him, serious. "Dean, hunting is never a profitable business, but we managed being only us. However, now we have an entire dozen of people to provide for. That means food, clothes, gas, toiletries, cash, phones… Pool hustling and credit swindle isn't going to cut it fast enough. We're lucky that at least in water and electricity the bunker is self-sufficient, but with so many people around we really should buy another washing machine for starts."

"I was thinking that maybe you could sell those old cars in the garage, as an idea," Jessica suggested. "It's not like you have any other use for them."

"Hey, what you mean 'old cars'?" Dean felt offended.

Behind him, where he couldn't see it, Sam was frenetically signalling to his beloved that that had been the wrong thing to say to his classic-loving brother.

"Ehm… I mean…" Jessica delicately tried to change the approach. "Those are really classic cars, Dean, and they have been kept in top-notch condition to boot. I'm sure there must be collectors out there who would pay pretty penny to get their hands on them. Perhaps even a museum? As a history student, I'd know."

Sam breathed relieved, very much proud of his smart fiancée.

"Oh, yeah. I… I guess you're right," Dean admitted, appeased. "It's not a bad idea, we could go with it. Those cars weren't going anywhere, anyway. More space for us."

"If you need money, I could always make a donation," Balthazar surprisingly intervened. "Open a NGO account, _Save the squirrels_ or whatever. It will give me a tax discount at least."

"Would your vessel be okay with that?" Sam doubted.

"Yes, don't worry. Good ol' Roché was bored shit and disenchanted with his fortune, that wouldn't give him back the love of his life nor cure him from his illness. I offered to at least do one of those things for him if he accepted me, but he refused. Sebastian would only say yes if I delivered him directly to Heaven, so that's what I did. He didn't care anymore for mortal riches."

"That's very generous of you, Balthazar," Jessica praised him, smiling cutely. "That would certainly be a nice pillow fund in case we don't get enough for selling the cars."

"Oh, you temptress. Don't do this to my poor heart when you already belong to another man!" the rogue angel sighed theatrically. "The forbidden fruit was for humans to eat, not angels. Besides, I've already set my eyes in the fruit of another blondie tree, darling."

Dean swallowed a chuckle, standing up and leaving his empty coffee mug in the sink, just in time to see the murderous look in Sam's face directed at Balthazar for daring to flirt with his babe. He walked to the doorframe, intending to go to his room to get dressed (because as comfy as the deadman's robe was, he had to set a good example for the children), when just a couple of steps before crossing it a flying knife hit the frame, falling clumsily to the floor.

"Dean!" Castiel was immediately by his side. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, no harm done." He picked up the knife and inspected it. "Hey, kid. You'll have to try better if you really intend to kill me."

To everyone's surprise, Jacob's voice was heard from the hallway.

"A kitchen knife was all I got for today. I couldn't get in the armory," the boy grumbled.

"Of course you couldn't, the armory is closed by seven locks. And that's no figure of speech," the hunter informed him, angry. "But still, even if you got a butcher's knife, it would have been for nothing. Everything in your attempt was bad: the distance, the timing, the aim… Also the target. You couldn't know that I was going to be the one out first. What if you harm someone else?"

The kitsune gritted his teeth, no replying. He turned around and disappeared, likely back to his room to keep plotting his revenge.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

After everyone had breakfast and were properly dressed, Sam and Dean gathered them in the library to set down some basic living rules. Jack was specially cheerful, having so many people around that looked close in age to him, even if that was far from the reality. Standing next to Castiel, he couldn't stop smiling, looking at all the other children in front of him.

"Ok, kiddos. Everybody hates speeches, so I'll keep this short," Dean started, rubbing his hands. "When I was the kid, I was my dad's little soldier. Sometimes it got ugly, but most of the time it felt like I could be trusted, like I was helping my dad and my brother. Then those few times I failed… my dad looked at me and seemed to remember what a child I was too. I hated those times, I hated feeling like I couldn't be relied on. So when one of us, big boring adults tell you to do or not to do something, we expect to be obeyed. We understand… we _know_ how important you are to our Saving-the-world plan, and we want to trust you with things. So, you don't behave like stupid kids, and we won't treat you like stupid kids, ok?"

"There are rules for a reason," Sam added, trying a friendlier tone. "The bunker isn't a prison, you can come and go as you please. But given the circumstances, we expect your help, and for that we need to know where you are and what you're doing. Please, don't go out without telling anyone. And if there's any problem, ask us for help too! Don't wait for it to become even a bigger mess, whatever it is."

"Speaking of messes," Dean perked up. "In this business we get a lot. You need to learn how to fight it before they catch you. That means all of you are going to be trained, if not in hunting at least in self-defense and lore. Combat, researching and Latin exorcising."

"Do you have to study dead languages to kill monsters?" Patience asked curiously. "I thought you did it with… salt and iron?"

"Oh, not at all!" Jack chirped. "Not all monsters are weak against the same things. Hunter training is about a lot of things, you'll see."

"That includes you too, Jack," the older hunter spoke very serious, moving his head to indicate the nephilim to join the group of teenagers. "You're certainly not going to stand lazily on the sides while everyone tries their best."

That made Jack frown in confusion. He looked at Castiel, as if asking for confirmation. The angel nodded, giving it, so the boy slowly walked to the younger side. He stood next to Claire, who nudged him lightly on the ribs, making him ticklish and smile a bit again.

"Good. Now that that's out the way, you have fifteen minutes to get ready for our first stop: the tattoo parlor. Scram! And you better be on time."

The children obeyed, not really in the mood to put up a fight for something as banal as a tattoo, though Sam was pretty sure that he heard Patience squeak when Alex explained her that they were being anti-demon tattooed. Apparently Missouri's granddaughter wasn't a fan of bodypainting.

"Don't you think is weird?" Sam asked to nobody in specific, frowning deep in thought.

"What in our fucked up lives isn't weird, Sammy?"

"Haven't you noticed? All of them, all the anunnaki channels… We met them before. And what's even more, they're all youngsters. Isn't that, like, an extremely rare coincidence?"

Dean thought about it for a second before nodding.

"It is. A damn big weird coincidence. Cas, can you clear it to us?"

"I do not believe it is a coincidence in the slightest," Castiel answered. "But I do not know for sure why the Nine Choirs spell chose the people it did. I may only surmise some of the reasons."

"Which are?" Jessica inquired.

"First is the caster, which was Rowena, but it was casted in your stead. The will was essential, thus the calling looked for people you knew and might be within your reach. Second is the nature: we are dealing with celestial energy here, therefore non-human beings should be more resilient to house it."

At this, Dean smacked his forehead as if suddenly understanding something, closing his eyes for a second.

"None of them are completely normal humans," he realized. "Everyone has some type of ability, or is a different species. Like Alex got her blood mixed with a vampire's…"

"Or how Jacob is a kitsune?" Sam guessed.

"Or Claire is a proved angel vessel, just like your brother Adam," Castiel confirmed. "Considering what your job is, it is plausible to think that there were not too many options to choose from. Most of the supernatural beings that cross your path end up dead, but those were children back then. They are survivors."

An overwhelming silence fell upon them, assimilating the truth. The Winchester brothers just hoped that while trying once again to save the world, they hadn't doomed the lives of innocent brats.

"By the way, why did you make Jack join them?" the angel asked, squinting curiously. "You know that he is already being trained by me to control his powers, and he is becoming quite reliable at it. Also, it is not as if there is anything actually capable of harming him, at least not that we know of."

Dean swallowed and turned around, strangely shy.

"Jack may be a nephilim, but he's still a kid," he explained. "And kids should play with other kid friends."

"Dean," Castiel smiled, warmth evident in his voice. "That was very kind and thoughtful of you."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm the fucking Mother Theresa. Let's go and get those children painted for life before one of them runs away."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Claire was fuming, ready to spit someone in the eye and complain endlessly for the big, unfair injustice that his dad-alike and semi-uncles were doing to her. Could you believe it? She was a big girl, she didn't need a nanny!

"Claire, we already had this conversation before, remember?" Dean sternly reminded her. "You promised to us, promised to Jody, that you wouldn't hunt like a fool."

"This isn't even a hunt, Gabriel said so! I only have to go to Tennessee and collect some kind of key."

"Yes, but Gabriel also said that the Seraphim key had already nested," Castiel replied. "And that means unpredictable occurrences, so you are not going alone."

"Great," she mumbled. "Not only I'm being babysat, but I have to do babysitting as well. Why is he coming?"

'He' being no other than Kevin Tran, that currently was leaning on Baby's hood, a bag hanging on his shoulder, patiently waiting for the young huntress to finish her tantrum.

"We Prophets of the Lord deserve to breath the air outside from time to time too, you know?" he snickered, more amused than offended. "Why? Do you have a problem with me tagging along? Because I'll let you know that I managed to deal with the King of Hell himself several times, all on my own. So don't worry, tigress, I can take care of myself."

"See? It's not as bad as you're making it to be," Dean closed the argument. "We go to Tennessee, you collect your key while Kev does a bit of sight-seeing, and I stay back just as a wildcard in case anything actually happens. Sounds good?"

Claire snorted one last time in annoyance, but gave in.

"The less complications the better, Claire," Castiel opined.

"Can we go in my car at least?"

"No chance in Hell," the hunter grinned. "You two get in and get comfortable while I go pick my duffel. I'll even ask Sam if he has any Taylor Swift cassette for you."

" _Sam's_ cassette, right…" she retorted in revenge.

Dean threw her a murderous look, but didn't say anything. He walked down the garage stairs, hasting to his room so they could go already, when he came to a halt while crossing the main hallway.

Emma.

Emma was there, Dean didn't know if coming out or going back to her bedroom, but they crossed looks and the air stalled in his lungs. He felt a knot in his throat, and for a moment his tongue felt like sandpaper.

"So, you're going," she said nonchalantly.

"Yes, I'm going," Dean confirmed, not knowing what more to say. "It seems an easy case. Hopefully it won't be long."

Emma nodded a couple of times, accepting the info before turning around and going on her way without saying another word. In a couple of seconds she was gone.

Dean swallowed and carded a hand through his hair, asking himself if he was supposed to say anything else. Goodbye, perhaps? See you soon? Be a good girl while I'm away for work? Dammit, he didn't remember it being this difficult and awkward with Ben.

Snapping out of it, he took the duffel from his room and went back, this time meeting his wannabe-boyfriend waiting for him in the war room.

"Dean," he called him, lightly grabbing his sleeve. "Please, wait a moment."

"Yeah, Cas? Is something the matter?"

"No, I just…" he stuttered and timidly looked away for a second, before locking eyes with him again. "I would like a kiss."

The Winchester blinked, taken off-guard by the angel's little request.

"What? Right now?"

"Is it not a good time?" Castiel frowned, but he started to feel insecure and released Dean's sleeve, taking a step back. "Forgive me, it was not my intention to bother you when you are about to depart. But since you asked me to be more direct about my desires towards you…"

"Hey, wait. Wait, stop there for a second," Dean interrupted him, understanding that he had screwed up Castiel's wish. "You want a goodbye kiss? That's what this is about?"

"I… yes?"

"Dammit, Cas," Dean chuckled, grabbing Castiel's hand and dragging him back into his personal space. "You can't expect me to get these things asap the first time you voice them out of the blue, ok?"

"But you already kissed me goodbye once before, Dean. How was I supposed to foresee that you would not get it?"

"If I don't, then you just have to explain yourself better. Now come here."

Castiel obeyed, enjoying Dean's pretty freckles before closing his eyes when he felt him tenderly kissing his lips. After the many kisses they had already shared, it marvelled the seraph how every single one of them still felt new and amazing. It didn't matter if they were gentle and sweet or rough and passionate, because they never ceased to elate his grace in a warm caress.

"So? How was that for a goodbye kiss?" Dean asked, smiling smugly.

"I liked it a lot," Castiel answered truthfully. "May I hope for a welcome kiss too?"

"No," the hunter smirked, shaking his head. "That one _you_ are giving it to _me_ , angel."

* * *

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_

 **Someone asked me about the children's ages. Since by now the story is happening during s13, the year is 2017. This means:**

 _Claire, born 1997 = 20 years old_

 _Alex, born 1998 = 19_

 _Adam, born 1990, killed 2009 = 19_

 _Kevin, born 1993, killed 2013 = 20_

 _Jack, born 2017, lied 2000 = 7 months (supposedly 17 years)_

 _Emma, born 2012, killed 2012 = three days (looks 16 years)_

 _Jesse, born 1998 = 19_

 _Kaia, born ¿? = considered 17 (still under Social Services tutelage, thus not of legal age)_

 _Jacob, born 1999 = 18_

 _Patience, born 1999 = 18_


	28. Chapter 27

_A new shipping in the making! :D_

* * *

 **Chapter 27**

"Are you sure is here?"

Claire voiced out her doubt with a tinge of scepticism, this time not trying to annoy her travel partners but with an honest interest. It wasn't for anything: the town of Carfax had nothing extraordinary, it was just a town like any other thousands that anyone could copy/paste all over the USA map. Not big, not noisy. Usually clean streets and a little church at the end of the lane, youngsters sitting on the Hall's stairs loitering around, while people walked minding their own business.

"These are the coordinates that Sam sent me," Dean answered, parking in front of the first inn that caught his eye. "Don't you feel anything? Some angelic force calling out to you?"

"Can't say I do," the girl replied, getting out and stretching her arms above her head. "Whatever. I'll take a break anywhere from the hours we've been sitting in your damn old car."

"Hey! You should show her some respect," the hunter scolded her, patting Baby affectionately. "Don't hurt her feelings."

While they argued playfully, Kevin opened the trunk and took out their baggages. Since, unbelievably, there weren't cheap motels near enough Carfax to stay in while working in their case, an in-town inn had to be. The prophet definitely wouldn't complain, knowing that at least here they would get recently washed linens and freshly cooked meals. Perhaps there was even air-freshener in the bathroom!

"Good afternoon," Dean greeted the smiling old lady at the counter. "We'd like a room, please. Three beds."

The smile slowly fell from the granny's face when she took in Dean's companions. Her eyes widened a little, and she put on a look as if had bitten a lemon.

"Are… are you sure, sir?" she almost squeaked, looking left and right at the two teenagers, and then at the obviously older adult man.

"Please, _Uncle_ ," Claire intervened, faking an annoyed pout. "I'm not a little princess anymore. If you don't want me to sleep with my boyfriend, at least I can pay for my own room. Right, madam?"

"Of course, of course!" the old lady nodded, regaining her welcoming smile. "Carfax isn't very popular at this time of the year, so we have more than enough rooms. Sorry for your boyfriend, dear, but I'm sure your uncle only wants to keep things decent while you're visiting our town during your… family trip?"

"You read my mind," Dean played along, though gritting his teeth for the nasty things that the innkeeper might had thought about him. "These children just grow up so fast, you know."

"Yes, yes, that's true! It feels like yesterday I was changing my grandson's diapers, and look now, he's graduating high school this year! He's very excited for the Winter Ball in two days, since it will be his last. Well, here you go, the two keys for your rooms! I hope you enjoy your stay in Carfax."

After going to their rooms and putting away their luggage, the three of them reunited back in the lobby to go around for a stroll.

"Okay, as far as I can tell right now, the strangest thing in this town yet is that there's not a single Starbucks in sight," Kevin said. "So what we do now? Time to start snooping around?"

"Looks like it," Dean confirmed. "Go easy at first, don't don any suit or badge unless something catches your attention. Kev, to the local library; Claire, search for the fancy places that brats here go to. I'll try to dig up some info from the locals. Meeting here again at 8pm. Five hours should be enough to find something, if there's actually something to be found."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Meanwhile, since Dean had gone yesterday to Tennessee, after the breakfast Sam and Castiel had taken everyone just outside the bunker in order to start and try to train the children under their care. _Try_ being the key word, since they seemed to have their own opinion about it, and didn't mind to express it quite clearly.

"This is a waste of time," Kaia sighed, bored but expertly turning and twisting her spear around. "I mean no disrespect, but you can't teach me what I already know, specially if I'm a better fighter than you."

"I know, Kaia, but you're not the only one here, right?" Sam acquiesced, internally wondering how the heck his brother managed to get the kids to listen, at least most of the time. "We need all of you, and we want you to be able to protect yourselves, as well as protect others. You might have spent centuries fighting for your life against the titan, but your companions have not."

"Take into consideration that Jack and Jesse are to be trained in battle too, despite their immense power," Castiel added, attempting to appease the avatar girl. "This is not meant to be a disparagement to your own abilities, but if you prefer, you could instead support and help us in teaching these young people how to fight. That would be greatly appreciated."

Kaia huffed in annoyance, but didn't deny her help. She took it as a training for herself, in the sense of how long she could keep someone alive before they got themselves killed. Also, she wanted to express her gratitude to Jody's girls for their acceptance and friendship, as well as Jack's.

"Alright, I'll support you. But at the end of the day, I demand a battle with the seraph," she spoke, pointing Castiel with her spear. "At least against him I'll feel like actually fighting and not just playing around. I need to hone my skills better in case I face Legion again."

The agreement was made. The nephilim and the cambion were forbidden to use any supernatural power while training, which made Emma and Jacob grunt under their breath. It wasn't like they could deactivate their superior strength just to match the humans'.

"I thought amazons were supposed to be great warrioresses," Adam spoke kindly to his niece during a break, out of curiosity. "And I've already seen today how strong you are, but your knowledge of combat seems… lacking."

"I was alive only for three days before being killed," Emma explained, sadness tainting her tone. "Amazons _are_ great warrioresses, but I didn't have time to learn anything. Before starting the training, we're expected to complete our rite of passage first, which you already know what it is. Usually, our enhanced strength and a very sharp blade are enough, but… it wasn't my case."

At the end of the day, when the sun was about to set, Sam called off the training. While some of the youngsters had kept up pretty well because they were already used to physical exertion, like Jacob and Alex, others like Adam and Patience were almost dragging themselves on the ground.

"Let me tell you, breath and run is something you don't need to do in Heaven," the boy said, lying down and popping a few tense muscles back in place.

"I second that," Emma agreed.

"By all appearances, you two would benefit greatly of visiting regularly the gym in the bunker," Castiel adviced them. "Dean will not be happy if he intends to teach you something and you are not in shape to follow his pace."

After a little while, Kaia approached the angel, intending of making him fulfill his part of the agreement.

"Are you sure you do not want to rest a bit more?"

"I haven't done anything today yet to make me tired," the dreamwalker dismissed, readying herself into a battling pose.

"As you prefer. How do you want to go about it? Only physical combat, or magic included?"

"Magic in this world doesn't work exactly the same as in the Bad Place or my home, as I learned during my encounter with the shedim. I think it's better not to rely on it until I'm sure what I'm capable of and what not. However, keep in mind that I don't intend this to be a play-pretend fight: I will attack you as I would do against an enemy, and I expect you to act accordingly."

"I will do my best not to disappoint you," Castiel nodded, accepting the terms and taking out his angel blade from his sleeve.

"Good," Kaia firmly grabbed her spear. "Let's begin."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

That night, while eating dinner together in the quaint small lounge of the inn, Dean tried to make sense of the info that he and the two kids have gathered.

"I tell you, it's not your usual weird stuff. This is bordering creepiness. We totally have a case here, anunnaki key or not."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Claire agreed, forking her cheese macaroni. "Everywhere I went, girls and boys only talked about the Winter Ball this and Winter Ball that. Nobody had even a second subject of conversation."

"Well, for high school students it might be a big deal, kinda like a prom?" Kevin opined. "The strangeness is about the rest of the town. The library was full of ads, like it was a big event instead of a mere school party. And the local newspaper, since several days ago other news have been disappearing, and now the pages only talk about the ball. Same with the local radio station."

"Maybe this is a boring, small size town? Nothing of interest happening?"

"There aren't even publicity ads, Dean. They've been removed. Every single line is about the Winter Ball," the prophet denied. "But still I made a little research, just in case, and guess what? There are more things to inform about, they simply don't. Local journals from neighbouring towns wrote about someone important dying, an accident on the road less than fifteen kilometres away, and some poachers that tried to sneak in an animal reserve but ended up trapped in the grid fence."

"Like they don't totally deserve it," Dean snorted. "It's not just me, then. I passed along the bank and I thought half the town was there. When I asked if they were giving something for free, I found out they were bringing out their golds. Like, granny's ring and grandaunt's necklace? Valuable family heirlooms, just so their children could wear them to the ball. All the pieces they had, everyone driven crazy like a second wave of Gold Rush."

They ate quietly for a moment, enjoying their home-tasting meals and thinking of a plan.

"Do you think this is caused by the Seraphim key's influence?" Claire asked.

"Well, the time matches with when we did the spell, more or less," Kevin commented. "We don't know exactly when the key nested, but Carfax is where the dot turned purple in the war room map. I'd say that's our answer."

"Yeah, probably. And that means…" Dean swallowed the food in his mouth and grinned amusedly, "that we need to rent a couple of evening suits for the ball you'll be attending."

"Say what again?!" the huntress shrieked. "I'm not going to a stupid ball!"

"C'mon, you two are barely twenty. What, do you expect _me_ to pull it off? I'm flattered, but not happening."

"I wasn't supposed to participate in this," Kevin frowned, doubtful. "Are you sure you want me involved?"

"It would look pitiful for Claire to show up alone, right? So yes, you're going to be the knight in shining armour for Uncle's little princess," he laughed. "Let's just ask the granny at the counter where we can get some tickets. I hope you two know how to match a corsage and a boutonniere…"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Ruffling her hair with a towel after a very desired shower, Emma was walking through the maze of hallways in the bunker to her bedroom when a few soft laughs caught her attention. Sharpening her hearing, she followed the sound to the room that the nice woman named Jessica had told her they called affectionately 'the Bat-cave', and found some of her new companions lounging there. Jack, Kaia and Jesse were watching TV on their pajamas.

"What are you laughing at?" she asked curiously from the doorframe.

"Oh, Emma," the nephilim smiled at her. "Come sit with us, we're watching cartoons."

"What's a cartoon?" the amazon frowned, entering and looking at the screen.

Some moving picture of vivid colours greeted her, about a small blue creature wearing white pants and a white pointy hat.

"This is called a smurf," Jack explained, moving on the sofa to free a space for her to sit down. "I thought it was a type of fairy or gnome, but Jess told me they're only fictional. A human imagined them, so they're not real, but they tell funny stories."

"Why are you listening to something that isn't real?"

"Because it's entertaining," the cambion answered this time. "When I was little, my favourite was _David the gnome_. Old version."

"Dean and Sam prefer _Scooby Doo_ , though Castiel favours _Maya the bee_. There are a lot to choose from, maybe you'll find some that you like too!"

Emma sat there for a while, watching as the many clones of the blue creature lived in their mushroom village and thwarted the evil plans of a bald wizard. She didn't understand a lot, but she laughed a few times and enjoyed the time. The smurf that wore red was the one who caught her attention the most.

"He seems to be very wise," she commented. "And also very caring to the other smurfs."

"Yes, he's like a father to them all," Kaia explained. "He teaches and protects them. I wish my Earth father had been like this."

"A father…" the blonde girl murmured to herself.

The four teenagers watched the cartoons for a while, until Julia came to pick up her son.

"Jesse, it's almost midnight. Time to go to bed, young man."

"Mum, please!" he whined a little. "Can't I stay a bit longer? It's not like I have school anymore."

"No, but you have lore lessons and training. So stand up, to bed you go."

"And what about them?" Jesse weakly complained, referring to the other children, but obeying his mother.

Julia looked at the three of them, unsure.

"I don't know," she answered. "Certainly it's time for all of you to go to sleep, but I'm not _their_ mum. I don't have any authority over them."

"You don't, but _I_ do," Castiel spoke, appearing beside her. "And Julia is right, it's already late and you all should be resting, Jack. Today was only your second day at training, and your body needs to get used to cyclical turns of exercise and repose. Emma, if Dean was here, I am confident that he would tell you as much."

The young amazon didn't say anything, and for a moment it looked like she wasn't going to listen to the angel. However, after a few hesitant seconds, she stood up too.

"Kaia, for the sake of your wounds, you should go rest too. Since your essence does not seem to assimilate my grace easily, I cannot heal you properly."

"I can heal perfectly fine by myself, there's no need to worry about it," the avatar shrugged it off. "It's good enough that you didn't go easy on me and honestly honoured our agreement. It wasn't a defeat I'm ashamed of."

"It was not such an easy victory for me either, I assure you. The wound that your weapon inflicted me was very painful to sustain, even if it healed fast. That has never happened before."

Their little chat was interrupted by a loud yawn that Jesse couldn't hold in any longer.

"That's it, dear. Off to bed, you go!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Dean looked impatiently at the clock in the girl's room, wondering how much longer it would take until she was ready. He and Kevin had been there for an hour already, the boy wearing an elegant dark blue suit with a white shirt and a lavender boutonniere.

"Claire, get out already!" he called impatiently, knocking on the toilet door again. "The damn thing starts in thirty minutes and I need you two inside while I check outdoors."

"I look ridiculous in this stupid thing!" the girl shouted, unlocking. "I warn you, either of you make the slightest comment about it, and I'll cut your ears while you sleep."

The huntress finally came out, squirming uncomfortably in the ankle-long skirt of her evening dress. It was a cute vintage dress, made of lavender satin, with thin straps and a big black sash tied with a bow over her butt. She had braided her long hair and held it in a flowery bun at the back of her head. Her mild make-up made her look like the innocent, naive young girl that she was far from being.

"At last," Dean celebrated, totally ignoring her angry demeanour and putting a lavender corsage on her wrist that matched perfectly her dress and Kevin's boutonniere. "Nobody cares how you look, Claire. This is for the case. Think of it as the same as an FBI outfit."

"Oh, really? I'd like to see you interrogating a witness in these hellish heels, or wearing a skirt that surely got its shape from the highest bell in the church."

"Clock is running, guys," Kevin ignored their quarrel and picked up his coat, walking to the door to make them hurry.

After Dean took a picture of them together with his phone (because of course he totally had to show it to Castiel and Jody) they went down the stairs as fast as Claire's footwear allowed them, but before they could go through the lobby door, the old innkeeper called out to them.

"Oh my my, you two look so dashing! What a cute couple!" she grinned warmly, before noticing something that made her frown. "But wait, you're not wearing any gold? That can't be!"

"Yeah, well… Jewellery isn't something we considered while packing up," Dean explained, rubbing the back of his head in a fake apologizing gesture.

"What a misfortune! You can't go like this, wait a minute." She went back to the storage that seemed to be behind the reception area and returned with a small, old wooden chest in her hands. "Here, you can take this for tonight. I'll lend it to you."

Opening the chest, she revealed several pieces of pure gold to her tenants. Claire suffocated a gasp, hand in mouth, and exchanged confused looks with her supposed uncle and boyfriend. Was this woman for real? Was it normal at all to offer something like this to complete strangers?

"I… I thank you, madam, but this is too much. We can't accept it."

"Nonsense, of course you can! It'll serve a better purpose adorning a pretty young lady like you than being kept forever in a box."

"It's very generous of you, madam, but… perhaps you should offer it to your grandson?" Kevin tried to help. "You told us that he was very excited about the Winter Ball."

"Oh, yes, he is. But his other grandfather already gave him a lot of gold," the granny explained, taking out an antique pocket watch with chain and all. "Look, isn't it splendid? Youngsters like you don't appreciate anymore old items like this, but tell me, what else could compare to this lavish elegance? Take it, lad, take it!"

And she practically shoved it into his hands, rummaging through the chest to fish out some more trinkets for them.

"Listen, madam, this is really kind of you, but we have to go," Dean tried to stop the woman. "I think we're already running late."

"WAIT!" she almost screamed, grabbing the hunter's wrist with a lot more strength that would be expected from a senior lady. "You're not going to the ball like this. You MUST bring gold."

Something shifted in the mood then, and the three of them knew it. This was not some random gold fever: it was a subliminal command.

"I like the ring that you have there, madam," Claire spoke softly to her, attracting her attention back. "The one that seems to be braided, just like my hair. I'd be honoured to wear something so beautiful."

The granny immediately perked up, going back to her cheerful self. After she showered the teenagers with a tiny fortune in gold, she was finally satisfied and let them go. When they finally arrived to the high school, Kevin behaved like a perfect gentleman and opened the car door for Claire, immediately offering his arm to her.

"Ok, kids. You know why we're here, so don't get distracted. I'll be watching the surroundings, but the moment anything strange seems to happen, you get out and look for me, understood?"

Both of them nodded, getting into character of lovely sweethearts. They showed their ball tickets at the entrance, and joined the party. Blinding disco lights that made them blink several times received them, not really adequate for the romantic atmosphere that the slow music obviously attempted.

"I pray that something strange happens soon," Claire murmured, gripping Kevin's elbow. "I can't get out of here fast enough."

"Tell me about it, catatonia-inducing lights are not my cup of tea either. Let's mix with the people," he suggested, offering his hand. "May I have this dance, please?"

"I'm getting the feeling that you're enjoying this more than you let out," she suspected, but accepting his hand and starting to dance slowly. "Did you miss your own prom or what?"

"Something like that, yes," he looked away mournfully. "I was awaken as a prophet at fifteen, and back then I only cared about studying. I had a girlfriend, Channing, who was in advanced placement with me. She was killed by Crowley before we could graduate, so… no, no prom for us."

Discussing painful memories was not something that the huntress wanted to do in the middle of a case, so she didn't question him further. They danced in silence for a while, all the songs sounding pretty much the same to them.

"Seen anything yet?" she asked, bored.

"I see a guy that has been groping a girl clearly not his date. He's about to get slapped by the other girl," Kevin answered, snickering. "But no, nothing supernatural yet."

"I wonder what's with the obsession for gold. Maybe a dragon?"

"I sincerely hope not, those are almost impossible to kill. But perhaps that exceptional spear that Kaia has could do it." He shut up for a second, unsure of voicing out his curiosity. "Claire, you don't have to answer if you don't want, but… why do you hate Kaia?"

The blonde stopped moving for a moment, looking at him with hard eyes, but eventually she gave in.

"It's not her that I hate, exactly," she muttered. "It's me."

"What?" Kevin frowned in confusion, dancing again.

"Kaia… I mean the first Kaia, she was a poor scared girl. She didn't want to fight, didn't want to get in trouble, but I made her to. I promised to protect her, to keep her safe, and she was stupid enough to believe me. To believe _in_ me, and I failed her," Claire admitted in a broken voice. "I don't care what this other Kaia says about being fate to gather all of her pieces or whatever. To me, I was the one that got her killed. And I can't forgive myself for that."

The young prophet held her tighter, trying to find something in his mind that could make her feel better.

"I'm not a hunter myself, Claire, but the first thing that anyone should learn about the life is that you can't save everyone," he reminded her a lesson that she surely already knew. "And I know that it hurts, but sometimes we must do bad things in order to set things right. Even if the Kaia you met died, it was necessary for her to become whole again. If you look at it that way, you actually helped her. You were just the catalyst of something that couldn't be delayed any longer, because it was meant to be."

"Yeah, right. And what would you know about doing bad things to set them right?"

"Oh, for your information I know a lot," he chuckled. "For example, I should tell you how beautiful you look tonight but I'm not, out of fear of losing my ears."

Claire huffed, annoyed by the boy's nonchalance, but didn't repeat her previous threat. Instead, she stared at him and graciously accepted the compliment.

Suddenly the mood became tense between them. Kevin dropped his smile, his heart picking up the rhythm while he gazed all over the girl's face. Claire played with her fingers at the back of the prophet's head, unconsciously tugging him closer. As the music continued to play around them, they lost sight of everything that wasn't each other and breathing the same air, until their lips finally met in an unexpected kiss.

Barely a second after, a deafening roar rumbled through the ballroom.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	29. Chapter 28

_Winchester life is a drama life, like you didn't know..._

* * *

 **Chapter 28**

The walls in the ballroom almost shook, the potent roar reverberating though the air. Out of instinct, Claire and Kevin crouched to the ground and covered their ears, while immediately trying to find the source of the animalistic sound. But before they could see anything, another strange fact was evident to them: all the ball-goers had been frozen to the spot, apparently. Except they two, everyone stood still and silent, eyes wide open, not even blinking. And also, all of them had turned to the same direction, not dancing anymore, towards the big doors that connected the ballroom to the main hallway and that had been abruptly open by some invisible force.

"Seems like your wish was granted," Kevin said over the boring music, that somehow kept playing. "It's already happening. We didn't have to wait long."

"Shut up and let's hide somewhere," Claire responded, not in the mood for jokes.

Looking around, their choices were few. They had to take refuge behind the fruit punch table, that was near the second double doors opposite to the ones open. Unfortunately, even if these second doors connected with the outside, they were locked and didn't budge a millimetre when they tried to open them.

"Damn fantastic," Claire mumbled, crouching beside the prophet. "Now what?"

"You're asking me? You're the huntress here."

Another roar ripped through the open hallway, this time accompanied by the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps coming closer. Again, nobody reacted nor moved at all.

"I don't like this," Kevin commented, looking at the people. "They're like paralyzed. How are we supposed to fight whatever without hurting them, being in the way?"

"Yeah, welcome to the club. That question comes up a lot in this job."

A third roar that sounded way closer told them that the creature responsible for the mess had finally arrived. Peeking over the table, they saw a massive yet majestic four-footed creature with strong wings. It looked like a mix of a lion and an eagle.

"Oh, God…" the young prophet trembled, feeling his heart jump to his throat. "This isn't good. This isn't good at all."

"Why? What's that thing?"

"If I'm not mistaken, and pretty sure I'm not, that's… that's a gryphon." Kevin swallowed hard. "And that's bad. Remember what I told you about how difficult are dragons to kill? Well, gryphons are almost there too because they're incredibly strong, they resist almost anything. And by the way, sorry to say that I never learned how to take down one."

Claire was about to say something very colourful, but shut up when suddenly the people started moving again. As if obeying a silent order, everyone began to remove their gold jewels and ornaments, bringing them to the feet of the gryphon.

"So that's what the gold was for," Claire whispered. "Are gryphons hoarders too?"

"Not that I remember, but they're protectors of treasures, and they normally nest in golden mountains. But I don't kno-"

Before he could even finish his sentence, the reason of the gryphon's gold-calling was made clear when it picked an earring with its beak and gulped it down.

"You gotta be kidding me," the girl grunted, seeing the beast feasting on the jewellery. "Food? All of this was to feed itself?"

Another set of hurried steps came from the hallway, immediately followed by several shots that only managed to enrage the majestic gryphon.

"Claire! Kevin!" Dean's voice reached them. "Answer me, dammit!"

"We're here!" Kevin shouted back, inadvertently revealing their hiding spot to the angered beast. "We're fine, but I don't think that's going to last!"

The gryphon shrieked, an ear-piercing sound that made some of the blinding disco lights burst, and advanced menacingly towards them, ready to attack. Luckily, this allowed Dean to enter running into the ballroom through the now free doors, gun still in had, in time to see everyone dropping to the ground like sacks of potatoes.

"Claire, Kevin!" he hollered to the other side of the room. "Didn't I tell you not to get distracted?"

"We weren't!" the huntress protested, abandoning her heels and looking around for another safe spot.

"This thing appeared from one minute to another!" the prophet supported her.

Things had gotten complicated. There were no hiding places inside the ballroom, and the creature was huge compared to them. Besides, running away from its attacks when the floor was covered in unconscious bodies wasn't making it any easier.

"What the hell is this thing anyway?"

"It's a gryphon!" Kevin informed, while holding a chair against the beast's open beak that in mere seconds would be nothing but splinters. "But we don't how to kill it!"

"Fucking perfect," Dean grumbled. "Claire!"

"What?" she had grabbed a piece of broken glass and was trying to wound the gryphon, but its skin was too thick.

"Drop that thing and call Rowena!" the hunter shot again and managed to attract the gryphon's attention. "She must know how to deal with this son of a bitch."

"You think this dress has a hidden pocket or what?" she retorted, rolling away to avoid being flattened like a pancake. "Where the hell would I keep a phone?"

"Shit! Kev?"

"Yes I know, I'm on it!"

While Dean and Claire did their best to control the gryphon, wincing whenever someone's bones were crushed under its weight, the boy hastily dialled Rowena, because thankfully he had pockets in his suit. When the witch picked up, her melodious voice was barely heard over the ruckus in the ballroom.

 _"Yes? Who's this?"_

"Rowena, this is Kevin Tran!" he said. "No time for explanations, but do you know how to kill a gryphon?"

 _"Well, hello to you too,"_ Rowena spoke, a bit irked by the lack of manners. _"What's the matter, Kevin? What's all that noise?"_

"We're in Tennessee, looking for an anunnaki key," Kevin explained as fast as he could. "A gryphon crossed our path."

 _"A gryphon?!"_ the redhead exclaimed, surprised. _"That's amazing! Not a single gryphon has been spotted since the days of old. Tell me, what colour are…"_

"ROWENA!" the boy interrupted her, this was not the time for this. "Do you know how to kill it or not?"

 _"What a shame, such a precious creature,"_ she sighed mournfully. _"But yes, of course I know. You have to shoot a golden arrow to its heart."_

Kevin fell silent for a few seconds, stunned. What a twisted joke was this? They were surrounded by gold, but everything was jewellery. There wasn't any bow or arrow, and even if there were, nobody that knew how to shoot it.

 _"Are you still there, young mister?"_ Rowena's voice sounded concerned now. _"Kevin, answer me! What mess did you get yourselves into?"_

"We have gold," he blabbered. "But there's no arrow. And certainly there's no archer."

 _"Oh, sorry to hear that. But an arrow made of gold through the heart is the only way I know of to kill a gryphon. Are you even sure it's really a gryphon?"_

"Believe me, this is a gryphon if I've ever seen one."

"KEVIN!"

Claire's scream made him look, just in time to see that the gryphon had spotted him and was about to charge. While he scrambled to his feet, the girl was already fed up with her annoying dress: grabbing one side of the fabric at her waist, she yanked forcefully, tearing apart the delicate lavender satin and revealing the tight black jeans that she secretly wore under. She then took in hand the grigori blade that she kept on her thigh holster.

"Oh, God," Kevin murmured to himself, astonished. "That was so hot!"

Not really looking where he was putting his feet, in his haste to get away from the gryphon, he ended up landing on his butt and dropping the phone among the unconscious bodies. Cursing under his breath, he turned on his stomach and crawled on his hands and knees, desperately looking for the device.

 _"Hello? Are you still there, Kevin? Hello!"_ Rowena's voice was heard.

Thanks to her continuous calls, Kevin was able to locate the phone a couple of bodies behind him. He had almost reached it when something tugged at his waist. He tried to ignore it, but whatever it was it didn't let him advance. Looking under him, Kevin saw that the chain of the pocket watch that he had borrowed from the innkeeper had gotten tangled with someone's shoelaces.

"Dammit, let me go…" he grumbled, yanking at it.

And then he saw it, the pocket watch sphere and the needles. So very small, but still piercing and made of gold, like tiny arrows. An idea came to him.

"Rowena!" he shouted on the phone after freeing himself.

 _"Kevin, what's happening?"_ she sounded sincerely worried by now.

"No time to explain. Do you know any spell to increase the size of things?" the boy asked, breaking the sphere glass against the floor. "I mean a simple spell, no ingredients or anything."

 _"What now? Well, sure I know, but those kind of spells only last a few minutes. They're not reliable."_

"A few minutes is all we need," Kevin hoped more than believed, taking out the watch needles. "I have no arrows, only three tiny clock needles. Can you use the size spell on them?"

 _"Hmpf. Alright, be ready."_

Not knowing what else to do, Kevin directed the phone speaker towards the needles, as if they needed to hear the spell to obey. Barely a few seconds later, the three of them grew to the size of pretty much an actual arrow.

"Guys!" the prophet hollered, carrying the three quite heavy items, since they were made of solid gold. "Gold arrow through the heart!"

"About fucking time!" Dean grunted, dodging a wing slap. "But we have to restrain this thing somehow first."

"Dean, above you!" Claire pointed out, while fending off the beast with her sword.

Searching a blind point, Dean took advantage of it and looked up, and understood. The ceiling was full of light wires and paper garland.

"You're the one with the sword, not me!" Dean said, getting to Claire and taking her out of the way. "I'll play with the kitten, you cut those ropes."

Claire ran to it, and Kevin put down the gold needles to help her. They had only taken down like half of them when the framework began to collapse, still leaving enough light on to see.

"Dean, it's already falling! Get away!"

The hunter did it just in the nick of time. The gryphon roared with fury, its wings and body trapped and entangled in the net of wires. It behaved savagely, lashing out left and right.

"Ok kids, we got this! Just one last strike!" Dean instructed, right before jumping onto the beast's back and strangling its neck with his arms. "C'mon, what you're waiting for? Do it already, shit!"

Even trapped, the gryphon was not going down without a fight. Claire took back one of the heavy gold needles, wanting to deliver the _coup de grace_ , but the creature didn't let her get close enough. Even with Dean restraining it, it was still ferocious and forced Claire to defend herself more than attack. Meanwhile, the time was running out and Kevin worried how much the size spell would still last.

But then a chance presented itself.

"Hold it right there, guys!" the prophet yelled.

The gryphon had Dean on its back, and was entangled in the wires. One paw used to sustain itself, and the other occupied on Claire's grigori blade, attempting to push her down. It was undefended. Kevin grabbed another of the gold needles and crawled under the beast, praying not to be crushed under its weight, and stabbed it in the middle of its chest with both hands and all his strength.

The gryphon cried out, a powerful, terrifying howl coming out its lungs. Still holding the made-up arrow, blood flowed on Kevin's hands as the creature perished. And then… it suddenly vanished in thin air.

"Ough!" Dean complained, landing on the floor with a thud. "The hell was that?"

He got up, painfully massaging his ribs and looking for the gryphon's remains, but there was nothing. Only a mysterious purple ball of light floated in front of him.

"Shit," he grumbled, flabbergasted. "Don't tell me that's…

"I think it is," Claire nodded, brushing off a speck of blood from her face. "This must be the Seraphim key. I can hear a strange calling now."

"God, we found it just in time," Kevin sighed relieved, showing them the pocket watch needles, already back to their original tiny size.

Claire held out her hand, touching the purple light. The ball immediately reacted, glowing more brightly and being sucked by her fingers, like the course of a river made of glitter. Her whole body shone translucent for a second, and her head became dizzy.

"I think I need a nap," she groaned, holding her forehead. "I don't see clearly."

"That doesn't sound bad," Dean agreed. "We already did what we intended, so better get out of here before somebody comes asking questions. Let's go back home."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Since Christmas was already around the corner, it wasn't really a surprise when the trio returned from Tennessee and found a big tree in the middle of the library, between the other two tables, covered in lights and tinsel and a lot of balls hanging from its branches. The rest of the bunker was decorated too, with thick snowy garland coiled around the stairs handrail, wreath on the tables and even some ribbons here and there. When Dean opened the heavy entrance door, the delicate chime of a bell was heard.

"Hello, we're back!" he greeted loudly, going downstairs and putting his duffel on the floor.

The people that were there at the moment, sitting at the table and apparently studying something, looked up smiling and greeted back. The only one that remained silent was Emma.

"Hey pal, congratulations for your prom!" Adam teased Kevin. "You're all grown-up now!"

"Yes, I'm getting old," the prophet said, bumping fists and sitting down next to him. "Guess you don't have to feel alone now."

"Claire, I'd never thought vintage was your style," Alex laughed. "Jody and Donna were surprised too."

"Oh, shut up. At least it wasn't a pink frilly abomination."

"Sister, how are you feeling?" Jack asked worriedly.

"My head is still a mess," Claire admitted, rubbing her forehead. "Every time I blink is like my brain shoots a negative picture right behind my eyes, but I only see random patches of a net."

"Ah, I know the sensation. It happened the same to me when I practiced opening portals to other worlds. I had the power, but I couldn't see the network of the universe fabric. That's why I needed Kaia's eyes."

"Then how did you manage to get back exactly here to the library when you rescued Jess?" Dean asked, intrigued.

"It was AltMichael who opened the portal, not me, and we already knew that it led to this world. I can navigate any world to any place, I just can't tell them apart beforehand without a dreamwalker's eyes."

"Yes, whatever you say," Claire sighed tiredly. "I'm going to shower and sleep for a while. Don't wake me up until New Year."

She made her way to the main hallway, and right before disappearing she encountered Castiel. They hugged tenderly and exchanged a few words.

"Hello, Dean." The angel smiled happily. "Welcome home."

Knowing very well what was about to happen, Sam couldn't help to get a laugh or two out of it.

"Look, kids, check it out," he whispered mischievously, nodding at the couple. "Don't miss it."

"How was your trip, Dean?" Castiel asked, staring intently at the hunter. "Did you find the Seraphim key?"

"Yeah, we did. I had to take a wild ride, but meh, it was nothing compared to Larry," Dean answered, losing himself in the gorgeous cobalts. "Claire got her thing, so everything's good. Eh, the bunker looks nice too!"

"I was hoping you would appreciate it. Not that I did much, but I liked participating. Jessica was insistent on me placing the tree topper," he squinted a bit. "I had the feeling that there was a humorous situation about it, but I did not figure it out."

They stood there for a minute, just looking at each other and grinning like only two idjits in love could do… and like they had been doing for years. Who knew how long it would have lasted if the laughs of the young hadn't brought them back to reality.

"Geez, guys!" Alex chuckled. "I could almost see the roses sprouting around you!"

"Not sure if asphyxiating in this lovely atmosphere is any better a way to die!" Adam followed.

"Oh, fuck you all, damn kids!" Dean grumbled embarrassed, picking up his duffel and dragging Castiel away to his bedroom, surely expecting to receive a promised welcome kiss.

"What are you all laughing about?" Emma finally spoke when his father was already gone.

The other kids looked at her blank face, not knowing how best to explain the joke. Sam merely frowned.

"It's just funny, Emma," Adam tried. "Since long ago anyone who met them could tell they loved each other, except themselves. This staring thing is what they usually do."

"Love?" the amazon repeated, now confusion painted on her face. "Are you telling me that Father and the angel are mates?"

"I don't know if they're there yet, but… yes. Does that bother you?"

She pondered the question for a moment.

"Father had sex with Mum because it was her duty to birth me," she said then. "What's the purpose on having a male as a mate? You can't spawn children that way."

"Love and sex are different things, Emma," Alex tried to help. "It's not necessary to have feelings for someone to have sex, and in the same way, not all sex is for procreation. Sex is also a way to express your love to another person."

Emma looked down, at the useless book she had in her hands, trying to assimilate the new info, but she couldn't. Love this and love that… what was its meaning?

"I don't understand it."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Dean and Castiel kissed gently for a while, leisurely, without hurry. Just the feeling of touching each other again was calming.

"I missed you, Dean."

"I was away only five days."

"To me it felt five days too long."

"You're really a sap, Cas," Dean snickered, pecking him one last time before getting to his duffel and started unpacking. "So, what did I miss?"

"There have been several different developments."

"Yeah, I noticed. Couldn't you wait for us to come back before jumping into Christmas decoration?"

"That matter is related to one of the developments," Castiel clarified. "Jessica wanted to wait for you, but the day after you departed Patience felt a connection with her own key. Sam decided to go to Massachusetts the moment you would be back, much to her chagrin, but we agreed that it was better to obtain the Virtue key before it chose to nest too. She was not happy."

"Can guess. Sam told me they both were looking forward to it."

"Sam promised her to be back before Christmas, though. If he departs tomorrow morning, it will be a stretch of time, but I believe he can achieve it as long as there are no further complications in Massachusetts. So they decided to decorate now, also considering that the girls are going back to Jody's."

This made Dean turn around.

"Wait, what? They're going back?"

"Yes, did Claire not tell you?" Castiel asked. "The girls did not want to leave her alone on Christmas. Sam invited Jody to spend it in the bunker with all of us, but unfortunately she had to work and could not be absent for so long. Donna had already invited her to join her family and was refused for the same reason."

"But Claire, Alex and Patience will be back after that, right?" Dean was worried. "We need them."

"I believe so, yes."

"Fuck, I didn't count on this," the hunter grunted, rubbing his face. "Ok, so what else? Is there another bomb to drop?"

"Well, there is also the matter of…" Castiel began, suddenly very serious, but something caught his attention. "Dean, what do you have there?"

The Winchester had just taken out a small plastic tupperware from the bottom of his duffel, containing what seemed to be a slice of pie. It was quite unusual for him to resist the temptation of pie until getting home.

"Oh, this… There was this nice little bakery out of Carfax, smelled heavenly, so I thought that maybe… I-I brought it for Emma."

"Oh, Dean…" the seraph sighed sadly. "Precisely I was going to inform you about your daughter. It is probably none of my business, but I noticed something… and I think Jessica noticed to. You should talk to Emma."

"Talk? Why, what's the problem?"

Before Castiel could give an answer, someone knocked on the door. Dean opened and, what a coincidence, it was his future sister-in-law holding a small bag.

"Dean, welcome back!" she greeted him with a hug. "I was shopping with Julia and the rest of the kids while Sam was giving his lesson. How was the case?"

"Everything turned out fine, thanks. Cas was now telling me whatever happened here. Was there something about Emma?"

"Oh, right…" Jessica showed the same concern as the angel. "Listen Dean, I hope you don't take it bad because I only intend to help, but I bought this for Emma. Maybe you could give it to her? By now Sam should be almost done for today."

She put the bag in his hands before going away. Dean closed the door and looked inside the package. There was a pencil, an eraser, a sharpener, a colourful alphabet book and a calligraphy practice notebook.

"The hell? What's all this kindergarten stuff for?"

"Go to the library, Dean," Castiel merely said. "Surely you will comprehend."

So Dean did. Sam was still there with some of the youngsters, Emma included, but they had already closed their books. Lore lesson looked almost finished, so Dean leaned on the arch and waited for it to end.

"So, Alex. Share with us some random fact that you've learned today about harpies."

"Ropes made with their originally beautiful hair are unbreakable and resist fire," the nurse revealed.

"Hum, good to know. I think Balthazar found a reel of that in one of Crowley's vaults. Adam, you were studying about vampires."

"Yes. They feed on blood, but I found out that mermaid's blood is poisonous to them," he answered. "They won't die from it, but they will weaken and suffer a lot for several days if intoxicated."

"Not bad! Kevin, since you joined us, tell us something about the gryphon you encountered."

"They have a heart of gold. Or at least a stomach," the prophet joked, making the others laugh.

"Jack, what can you tell us about fairies?"

"Castiel taught me that it's important to be grateful for the help of others, but you shouldn't thank a fairy," the nephilim explained, concern painted on his face. "That's because fairies are very prideful, and whatever they did for you, they will expect a greater and more meaningful reward than a mere 'Thank you' for their services."

"That's very true. Well done, Jack," Sam nodded, before acidly turning to the last person. "And you, Emma? Perhaps today you have something to share from your book?"

The amazon didn't acknowledge the harsh tone and merely looked back at him.

"No."

"Not that I expected anything else by now," the hunter snorted. "This is all for today, kids. Thanks for your effort. Go rest for a while before dinner."

Everyone got up and left except the amazon, so Dean decided that this was a good moment to try and get closer to the girl.

"Hey, Emma," he spoke to her cautiously, handing her Jessica's bag. "Jess got this for you. I think it's intended to be a gift."

"Thank you, Father," she said emotionlessly, taking the bag but not bothering to look inside.

"Say… why didn't you participate in the lesson?" Dean asked, sitting in front of her. "Was it that boring?"

"It wasn't boring," Emma admitted, shrugging. "Every day I learn something new, but I don't think it's necessary. After all, the only reason master Gabriel rescued me from Hell was because you needed me to be an anunnaki. Nothing else."

Dean felt a pang in his heart. That might be true, but now that she was there it could be more, a lot more. There were so many things to see, places to visit, food to eat, books to read… and just then he noticed that the book in Emma's lap was upside-down, but she didn't seem to care. At all.

A sudden realization hit Dean when he finally connected the dots.

"Emma," he inhaled deeply, trying to calm down his nervous heart. "Can you tell me what's your book about?"

She looked at him suspiciously.

"It's a lore book."

"I know that, I meant… what's the title? What does it teaches about?" Dean specified, but she wasn't answering. "Emma, do you know how to read? Or write?"

"No, I don't. Nobody ever taught me," the amazon admitted, apparently not caring much. "What's the matter? Must I remind you again that I was alive only for three days before being killed? I was only taught basic skills to survive."

This was too much for the hunter. He stood up, pacing around like a caged animal and carding his fingers through his hair.

"Why didn't you say anything? Why Sam haven't told me?"

"I don't think he noticed. We haven't really interacted, not even during lessons or training. And like I said, it's not something important."

"It is!" Dean yelled, turning back to her. "It is, and you're going to learn even if I have to teach you myself."

"Why do you suddenly care so much?" the girl yelled back, standing up and losing her patience. "Back that time, you were willing to let me go, Father. Why can't you do the same now? It's because you love me?"

That very important word, thrown at him like a grenade, made the Winchester stop dead in his tracks. He swallowed hard, mute.

"Since I was brought here," Emma continued, "I've been hearing _love this_ and _love that_ constantly, but no matter how much someone tries to explain, I can't make any sense of it. I can't figure out what you're talking about, and that annoys me. So okay, I'll be the anunnaki channel you need or whatever, but can't you just stop bothering me?"

Dean didn't know how to respond to that. He didn't even know where to start, so he chose to offer her the second item he had brought to the library: the small tupperware with a slice of pie.

"Sorry, I bought this for you in the way back," he spoke so very softly. "It's pie, and it's delicious. I thought you might like it."

Emma looked at the peace offering, suspicious again, but decided to accept it. She opened it and found a tiny plastic fork inside with the slice. Curious, she took a small bite.

"It's… ugh," she made a displeased sound. "The dough is nice, but the filling is too sweet. It's disgusting."

"It's okay, don't force yourself. You don't have to eat it," Dean smiled sadly. "It's not like it matters anymore."

The girl didn't know what had happened, why her father looked so unhappy, but before she could ask him Dean took off. Fuck the pie, he had a more pressing matter to discuss right now with his idiot of a brother.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	30. Chapter 29

_Messing with people, screwing up things… the family business._

* * *

 **Chapter 29**

Dean was fuming. No, better said that he was boiling in the broth of his anger. How could his own brother do something like this? He didn't expect it from Sam. Hell, Dean wouldn't expect it from anyone, but specially not from his own blood towards another of the same blood. But that was actually the problem, right? Sam didn't consider Emma to be their blood. Well then, that was going to change yes or yes.

Knocking on Sam's door proved futile, nobody answered. But he had said something about dinner, so it was probably his turn to cook?

And maybe it was because Dean was in a very agitated state that he wasn't paying as much attention to his surroundings as he usually did, but when going again through the hallways someone attacked him from behind, jumping on his back and almost making him fall to the floor.

"Shit! You again?"

Dean grunted, annoyed to the extreme. He didn't bother asking who it was, since there was only one person in the bunker that would want to attack him, and grabbed the arms that were in a strong lock around his neck, trying to get free. To give the kitsune whelp some credit, he didn't release the grip, and instead closed his legs around the Winchester's waist.

Dean thought fast, and while still trying to get Jacob's arms loose on his throat, started a counter-attack. Walking backwards, he fully slammed against the wall. Jacob groaned in pain, receiving most of the impact, but resisted. Dean had to repeat the tactic two more times until the boy's lock weakened enough to let him breathe again. Then, in a final slam, Dean arched back just a little bit, so the hit went straight to Jacob's head instead of his back. He immediately let go of the man after that, falling on his butt and grabbing behind his head.

"You're a fool of a kid," Dean snorted, rubbing his throat and breathing haggardly. "I have, like, 20kg of muscle mass on you. Did you really expect to overpower me in this narrow hallway, where all the odds go against you? No weapons, no fighting skills, no plan B… apparently no planning at all, only relying on your strength to beat a seasoned hunter?"

"I hate you," Jacob simply sobbed, still holding his head and not wanting to look up. "I hate you. I hate you!"

"Yeah, you already said that, and I don't give a damn," Dean replied angrily, not in the mood to be understanding right now. "But I'm starting to see that you're so blinded by your revenge on me that you don't even care to protect yourself. What a shame. Tell me, if you succeed, what do you intend to do after that? Have you ever thought about it, about the rest of your life?"

Jacob didn't answer anymore and Dean didn't want to remain there either, lecturing a boy that clearly wasn't interested in learning anything from him, so he resumed his search for his brother. Effectively, Sam was in the kitchen, chopping some vegetables.

"You!" Dean yelled upon entering. "The hell you think you're doing?"

"Uh… making dinner?" Sam answered, confused. "A carrot once in a while won't kill you, Dean."

"I'm not talking about fucking greens. I mean Emma!"

The moment he said his name, Sam sighed deeply and put down the knife, obviously frustrated. Placing both hands on the counter, he let his head fall in a tired pose.

"I'm doing what I can," he grumbled. "It's not my fault if she doesn't participate."

"You're not doing fuck," Dean replied, fury dripping from his voice. "I've been away five days, five days in which you were supposed to take care of things, to take care of everyone. And what I come back to instead? That you, oh so great teacher, haven't noticed that one of the kids doesn't even know how to read. What kind of shitty attention have you been paying to her?"

This made Sam's head snap back towards his brother, bewildered.

"Wait, what? Emma doesn't know…?

"No, she doesn't. Nobody ever taught her, so it shouldn't really be a surprise."

It took Sam a few seconds to assimilate this info, and then he looked away, ashamed.

"I truly didn't know," he confessed in a low voice. "I'm sorry, Dean."

"Yeah, of course you are. And I wish I could believe you, but that's not the case, since you clearly hate her so much."

"I don't…!" Sam replied, trying to defend himself. "It's not that I hate her, not really. It's the fact that you want so badly to have a child that you're not seeing the danger that she poses to you!"

Now it was Dean's turn to be confused by the other's words.

"The what? I don't want a child. What nonsense are you spitting out?"

"Dean…" Sam inhaled deeply, closing his eyes for a second before looking back at him. "You've always been like this around children. You took under your wing every one of them that we met during our cases, like… like Lucas in the lake, or Michael with the shtriga, Tyler in the one with the killing clown, Audrey and her suicidal teddy, Timmy in the boys home… You took care of the baby shifter we found that one time, and Cas called you when he was stuck babysitting for Nora. You even killed yourself trying to find Shawn in Meadow's House! And… don't even get me started about Ben."

He finished in a low note, knowing how painful the subject was for the older hunter, but there were things that needed to be said in order to make him understand.

"I think you have this… deep and unconscious desire to be a father, Dean, whether you realize it or not. And perhaps Claire and Jack fill up that desire to some extent, but I understand that the pull must be a lot stronger with Emma, being your actual daughter. I just want you to see that she's not a harmless little girl that you can take to the park to play. She's an amazon, a murderer by nature. It's in her blood."

"No, _I'm_ in her blood," Dean replied sternly, finally breaking his silence. "There's no such thing as a murderer gene, amazon or not. You dislike Emma only because she was sent to kill me, but I don't see you making any fuss about Jacob, right? And despite the fact that he's out of himself, I'm still putting up with him."

"But that's not…"

"Shut up, you listen to me now," Dean pointed a warning finger to Sam's face. "When Jack was born and I wanted to kill him for being the fucking Devil's spawn, you begged me to give him a chance. I did it, and yes, I'm glad that I did. Well, I'm not going to beg you: either you give Emma that same chance now, or I'll pack my things and take her away from here until this damn anunnaki thing is sorted out."

Sam almost choked, flabbergasted.

"Dean, you can't be serious!" he shouted.

"I'm dead serious," Dean swore. "You're my brother, Sam, and there's nothing I wouldn't give for you. But you're not my only family anymore, and as much as I'd give for you, I'd give for them too. And no matter if you like it or not, Emma is included in the pack."

He then turned around, intending on walking out, but at the doorframe he stopped one last time.

"Oh, and since you're so fond of the _other_ little killer, tomorrow you'll take him with you and Patience to Massachusetts while I focus on Emma. One for each, now isn't that fair?"

If there was a door to the kitchen, Sam was pretty sure that the slam of Dean's fury would have left him deaf.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The mood in the car was awkward and tense, very tense. Sam couldn't be more grateful to Jack for flying them all the way to a border state road with Connecticut, not only for the huge amount of saved time but also because he didn't think that he could stand the long journey with a depressive boy curled up on himself in one corner of the backseat and a definitely spooked girl in the other. Patience had tried to be amiable, talking a bit with Sam and answering politely whenever being asked something, but the heavy silence that came from Jacob had made her suspicious of the kitsune.

"Keep going south. We're close," Patience indicated, feeling a pulse in her temples.

Contrary to Claire, she seemed to be able to sense the call from the Virtue key, maybe due to her psychic gift. From the border road they had crossed to actual Massachusetts, went east for a while and then crossed the corner of Rhode Island to the south back to Massachusetts jurisdiction. The _Welcome to Fall River_ sign didn't ring any bell for Sam (what with the countless towns he had seen in his life), but after driving through the middle of the town, something gave him a familiar feeling.

"I think I've been here before," he frowned, stopping in a traffic light.

"Really? When?" Patience asked.

"I don't know. I can't remember all the places I've been, but obviously it must have been for a case. Are you sure that you feel the key in this town?"

"Yes, absolutely. The call is not pulling any further. It's somewhere here."

"Ok, good. Let's hope we find it soon, after getting to a motel to stay the night. You guys must be bored."

"Even I can stand three hours in a car, thanks to Jack," Patience smiled kindly. "It hasn't been that bad."

On his part, Jacob didn't bother to give his opinion. Sam frowned, worried, passing the traffic light. He will have to talk to him.

The motel was far from being the nicest place the hunter ever stayed in, but he didn't mind. After all he was used to it, but he shrugged apologetically at the poor girl that looked about to run off to buy disinfectant and spray every visible surface with it. At least their rooms were next to each other's.

"Patience, in case you need anything…" Sam offered, opening his door.

"I know, I know. Don't worry, I'll survive. Somehow, " she attempted to joke.

"Ok. Go settle in, and we meet down in an hour for lunch."

Patience nodded and Sam entered the room, leaving the door open for Jacob behind him to do the same. The psychic took a deep breath, steeling herself for the germ trial that her own room was surely going to be, and absentmindedly she leaned down to pick up her bag, not noticing that she was stepping on one of the strips. At the first yank, she tripped, and would have face-planted in the concrete floor if the kitsune boy hadn't reacted immediately and grabbed her wrist.

"Aaahhh!" Patience inhaled sharply, paralyzed in fear for what she was feeling.

"Patience?" Sam shouted, coming back out instantly upon hearing her distress. "Jacob, what are you doing? Let her go!"

"I was only trying to help," he spoke for the first time in the day, obeying. "I didn't do anything."

Sam carefully took Patience's hand and inspected her wrist. There was no injury, not even a mark from being grabbed too hard.

"You thought that I'd hurt her for no reason," Jacob said harshly, clearly wounded by the hunter's mistrust. "Guess you're no friend of mine, Sam."

And taking his own bag, Jacob forcefully passed beside Sam into the room. For a moment, the Winchester had the urge to knock his head on the wall.

"I'm sorry. I probably overreacted, but it was… His touch was…" Patience whispered in a weakened voice, not daring to continue.

"No, don't worry, it doesn't matter. Are you ok now?"

"Yes, I… I'm fine. Sorry. I'm so sorry. I… I'm going to lie down for a little."

"Yes, right. If that makes you feel better." Sam nodded, taking her duffel and carrying it to her door room. "Do you want me to bring you anything? Some coffee or herbal tea?"

"No, Sam, thank you. I just need to rest."

Sam opened Patience's door for her and let her inside, not insisting. However, after closing it, he couldn't help but wonder what the psychic girl could have seen through Jacob's touch to frighten her so much.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

After lunch, Sam pondered what to do. He needed to keep Patience near to pinpoint the exact location of the Virtue key, but he didn't like the idea of leaving Jacob alone, specially since the boy was so obviously not in a good state of mind. On the other hand, having to keep watch on the two of them was going to be a big waste of time. Leaving them together was also out of question, considering how scared Missouri's granddaughter seemed to be of the kitsune whelp.

Eventually, and since there didn't seem to be any case around, Sam decided it best to stick together.

"Are you feeling better, Patience?" Sam asked her after eating.

"Yes, thank you. Sorry to be a bother."

"You're not a bother, you're rather the reason we're here. I wish I could leave you two go around on your own, but…"

"You don't have to apologize for the babysitting," Patience smiled sympathetically. "I'm not offended by other people worrying about me. It's better to have someone taking care of you than having none and then disappearing in the night without anyone looking for you."

"What?" Sam frowned, confused by her comment. "Why do you say that?"

"Oh, I… I thought you've seen them." Patience looked around for a moment, and then pointed to a wall where there was a 'Missing person' picture. "I was referring to the girl that disappeared from here a few days ago. Apparently nobody noticed until very recently, and aside that poster, there's nothing being done about it. Not even a searching patrol, since she's already missing for several days. I feel really sorry for the girl, and… But my comment was out of place. Sorry."

Sam paid for their meal and went to look closer at the poster. It was about a young girl with tanned skin and dark, wavy hair. She looked familiar, probably he had met her in whatever case he and Dean had worked on in Fall River, but he couldn't remember her concretely.

In the afternoon, the three of them kept strolling around the town, hoping that Patience would catch a whiff or something from the anunnaki key, but there was no such luck. Being December and with the sun setting early, they didn't have a lot of time before nightfall forced them to return to the motel.

"I'm so sorry," the girl was crestfallen. "The calling is strong, but it's already everywhere. I can't tell where it's coming from."

"You don't need to keep apologizing, Patience," Sam tried to comfort her. "You've already done awesomely getting us this close. We'll find it soon, you'll see. The three of us."

But unbeknownst to Sam, the 'three of us' was a long shot. Next morning, Sam found Jacob missing from his bed. No more than ten minutes later, he and Patience were already running to the indolent receptionist, asking questions about the boy.

"Yessir, the punk came in very early," he lazily looked at the questionable centerfold in his hands, not really paying attention to them. "Asked me about the wild animals in the zone. Told him is not the season for fox hunting, and he seemed pretty pissed off by that."

"And?" Sam insisted, irritated.

"Punk wanted to know about routes into the woods and rangers security. Weird question from a weird tyke. Forest is tax-free and everyone can go in," he snickered, amused by his own joke.

Sam grunted and left the man alone, knowing that he would be no more help.

"Why would Jacob run into the woods?" Patience inquired.

"I don't know. Maybe it's his animal half, or… whatever, I don't know. Dean told me Jacob was out of himself, but I'm not sure he meant it like this." His phone beeped in his pocket and he took it out, sighing in relief after looking at the screen. "… Well, that's unexpected. Our vanishing partner just sent me a message."

Sam showed her, and Patience couldn't keep the surprise from her face.

 **I think I found the key. No hurt.**

 **Coming back now, wait for me.**

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"You shouldn't have done that, Jacob," Sam friendly attempted to talk to him while walking through the forest. "It could have been dangerous."

"I've been taking care of myself for years," the kitsune retorted, annoyed. "I think I can manage a couple of hours without a nanny."

"I know you can," the hunter assured, trying to appease him. "The matter is that you don't _have_ to. You don't have to be alone anymore, Jacob."

"Do I look like a stray to you?" Jacob yelled, turning to face him. "I'm not a lost kitten, Sam. And you'd do well remembering that the only reason I'm still playing this game is because I want to kill your brother."

Sam nodded, looking down for a moment and thinking carefully what to say.

"No way I could forget that, not even for a second. But despite what you might believe, I do care about you and want to be a friend that you can rely on. So I'd like to know, what else do you want?"

Jacob's eyes widened a bit, surprised. That was almost the same question that the other hunter had thrown at his face, a question for which he had no answer. Not yet, anyway. It's not like he had ever thought about his life beyond finding the man that had killed his mother and getting his revenge.

Irked by this, he ignored the younger Winchester and kept walking.

"How did you find it?" Patience asked after a while of uncomfortable silence.

"Something in this town smells like their angel friend and the one that found me. Since you were so sure that your key was near, I had a hunch. Just followed a trail and found that."

They hadn't walked that far from the town into the woods, but now they stood in front of a tiny ramshackle hut that looked like the slightest breeze would make it crumble to the ground.

"Oh, my…" Patience murmured softly, a hand over her heart, amazed by the feeling. "It's so clear and powerful here, almost like a song."

"Hey, wait!" Jacob made an aborted attempt to grab her wrist again, quickly taking his hand back when she flinched. "There's someone in there too, and something's… off. Be careful."

Hearing this warning, Sam pulled out his gun and went ahead, making the kids stay behind. Hoping the hut wouldn't fall down on his head, he pushed the wooden door open and looked inside. There was only one room, since the hut was so small, dirty and deserted except for a body huddled in one of the corners.

"Hello?" Sam called out, slowly and carefully walking in, gun ready. "Can you hear me? Do you need help?"

"Go away," a trembling feminine voice said, and the body moved a little. "Leave me alone."

Sensing no immediate danger, Sam put away his weapon and came closer to the figure. This seemed to spook her, as she curled up even more. Her little squirming made something in her lap slip a bit, and the person hurried to clutch it back to her chest. It was something ethereal and glowing white.

"I mean you no harm," he spoke calmly, hands in air. "What's your name?"

"Is that the anunnaki key?" Patience interrupted, entering the hut with Jacob. "Claire said that hers was purple."

"Claire's had already nested and transformed. This one hasn't."

"Good. Then let's take it and be done here," Jacob suggested.

"NO!" the person yelled, frightened. "This is mine, you can't take it!"

"Wait a second," the psychic said, cautiously crouching a few meters away from the stranger but looking at her. "I think I recognize her. It's the girl from the 'Missing' poster! What was her name… Glenda?"

"Goldie," she corrected, breathing nervously. "Goldie Schmidtlapp."

Sam suddenly remembered, clear as the light of day. Fall River, Massachusetts. Goldie Schmidtlapp, the girl whose soul Amara devoured when Crowley began to lose control on her. But contrary to many others, his brother and him had been able to save her before that Marco demon could get rid of her.

"Goldie," Sam called her. "Hello, do you remember me? We met before, a couple of years ago. I'm an FBI agent. My partner and I helped you when a blond guy tried to kill you in jail."

Goldie looked up, not in the least looking calmer, but she nodded.

"Yes, I remember you. You were the taller one."

"Yes, that's right. Sorry, but… ehm, I kind of need to take what you've found."

The girl didn't answer to that, but after a stalling moment she scrammed to her knees, trying to run away. The sudden motion took Sam and Patience by surprise, but not Jacob, who rapidly reacted and took her by the shoulders, forcing her to stand on her feet.

"It's mine, it's mine!" Goldie kept screaming, protecting the glowing white light and desperately trying to get free from the kitsune whelp to no avail. "I don't know how I lost it, but I found it back! Now I can _feel_ again! It's MINE!"

Sam felt his heart broke. He did understand the sentiment of being devoid of anything, the coldness, the nothingness. It was like the phantom limb syndrome, something that should be there but it wasn't. He didn't know in what way the Virtue key superseded that need for Goldie, but he knew that the girl couldn't keep it. If only her soul hadn't been lost to Amara…

Wait a moment. A soul lost to Amara?

"Can't believe it," the hunter uttered, standing back up. "So this was it? Dammit, Chuck! Couldn't you have said so since the beginning?"

"Sam, who are you talking to?" Patience asked, bewildered.

"Calling the angel Balthazar, wherever he may be," Sam ignored her this time, praying. "Please, Balthazar, grace us with your presence. It's urgent."

After a minute of nothing happening, he smacked his forehead in realization.

"Right, he can hear me but can't find me due to the carvings in my ribs. In any case he'd fly to the bunker. Jacob, can you do us a favour and call him down here, please? Tell him it's about the soul he's guarding."

"What? Why me?"

"You said it yourself, Balthazar found you. He'll recognize your soul."

Jacob did as he was told, and barely another minute later the silver-eyed angel appeared in the hut.

"I really hope that nobody is bleeding to death, because this designer shirt is…" he lost his smile and smug demeanour the moment he crossed looks with Goldie, "brand new."

Balthazar looked down to his belly and put a hand there, as if he was feeling something out of place there.

"No, thankfully nobody is bleeding to death. But I think you can be of help anyway," Sam informed him, before focusing back to the soulless girl. "Goldie, the thing that you found… we need it. It's not yours. But what you lost, my friend here has it. He has been protecting it, what truly belongs to you. If you want, he can give it back, but I need this light first. Please."

Goldie stared at him, distrustful, and then at the blond man that had appeared out of nowhere. And Balthazar could take a hint, despite what others might think; he simply chose to ignore them most of the time. But not now. He concentrated his grace, glowing almost blindingly for a second, and took out the human soul he had received in custody.

"I've flown around the world, expecting to randomly come upon you, but I couldn't find you," he apologized, holding her spiralling soul in hand. "Sorry it took so long, darling."

"Goldie, please," Sam repeated. "Give us the light, and you'll feel again. Everything will be fine, I promise."

She started to tremble, overwhelmed. As a lonely tear fell down her cheek, she opened her arms and gave up her treasure. Jacob let go of her as soon as the glowing white light floated gently towards Patience. The moment the psychic's fingers touched it, the light was absorbed inside her body.

"How are you feeling, Patience?"

"Ugh," she groaned, holding her forehead and blinking widely once. "Like my brain is going to melt. I see blotches behind my eyelids."

"Yeah, Claire said it wasn't nice for her either. You probably should rest. Let's go back to the motel, we'll call Jack again to return faster to the bunker."

"And what about her?" Jacob asked, meaning Goldie.

"I'll take care of this girl," Balthazar answered, surprisingly serious. "How long has she been soulless?"

"Uh… a couple of years, more or less. It happened during Amara's release."

"Got it. I'll make something up. She won't remember anything."

Sam hightailed out of there as fast as he could, teenagers in tow. He recalled very well the excruciating pain from when Death returned him his soul, and didn't want to be near when the same happened to Goldie.

Before long, the screams started behind them.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Back in the bunker, everything was normal. Dean was still giving Sam the cold shoulder, but that was expected. However, before letting the last little adventure rest for good, there was one last thing that the younger hunter needed… no, _wanted_ to know.

"Patience, can I have a word with you, please?" he asked the psychic girl after dinner.

She accepted, and they went to the Bat-cave for a little privacy.

"Sorry to ask you this, because I have the feeling it's not something you want to delve into, but…" Sam rubbed his nape, nervous. "What happened with Jacob? I mean when he touched your hand. What did you see?"

Patience tensed, clearly uncomfortable, but all in all she remained serene.

"I already knew that he wasn't human," she spoke lowly. "But I consider myself to be a tolerant person, not prone to judge lightly, specially after inheriting my grandmother's gift. When I shook hands with Jesse, I saw something rotten and twisted, but also something bright like a star. And I thought, he's half a demon, so this must be the worst that it could be? It's not that bad. But then, when Jacob touched me…"

A sob escaped her throat, too late to be covered by her hand. Sam didn't rush her, merely listening.

"With anyone else here, there are shapes. I can't see them clearly, not that I want to spy on you anyway. Memories, wants, fears, expectations… shapes that feel tangible to me in a very extrasensory way. But with Jacob it was…" She breathed deeply, trying to find the words. "A hole. A deep, fathomless, empty hole where I couldn't see the bottom. And there was nothing there. Sam, it was terrifying."

"Ok, ok, I get it," he hugged the girl, rubbing her back, trying to comfort her. "You can forget it now. I won't ask you about it again, Patience. Sorry."

She could forget it, but Sam didn't think that he would. He didn't know what was wrong with Amy's son, and worse, he neither knew how to help him. He worried what Dean could do if he ever found out about what Patience had just told him.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	31. Chapter 30

_Filler Christmas chapter, just some snippets of bunker hilarity :D_

* * *

 **Chapter 30**

Claire was barely out of her pajamas when someone knocked at her door. The girl grunted a bit at the sound, still feeling the after-effects of receiving a burst of angelic energy, and a bit annoyed from when she had seen Alex's cot already empty. Couldn't she wake her up too?

Opening the door, she found the Prophet of the Lord standing there, a pen and notebook in his hands.

"Good morning, tigress," he greeted her, smiling. "I need to know…"

"It was a one-time thing, Kevin," the blonde blurted out, interrupting whatever he was going to say. "Look, for the little time I've known you, I think you're a great guy and all that, but… there were circumstances, okay? We were playing our part and that was all. Nothing else."

The boy looked taken aback for a moment, as if not sure of what she was talking about.

"Ehm… alright?" he replied, doubtful. "Good to know we're on the same page, I guess."

"Yes… what?"

"Just as you have said, I think you're great and all too, Claire. And I wasn't lying when I said that I find you pretty. But it's true that we've known each other for so little time, so I can't say that I like you. Not that I dislike you either, but… you get it."

Claire slowly nodded, a bit dumbfounded by this unexpected outcome, but also relieved. She didn't want to make things awkward between them.

"Oh. That's fine, then. So, what did you want?"

"Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and since you girls are returning to Jody's place, it's been decided to give you your presents early, before you go. But since we're so many, Dean and Sam can't afford to buy for all of us. Jesse's mum suggested candy, so… what's your fave sweet?"

"I'm not really a fan of sweets. Almond chocolate, I think? Yeah, that's tasty."

Kevin hummed while writing it down in the notebook.

"You're also coming to the sleepover tonight, right?"

"The… the _sleepover_?" Claire almost shrieked, incredulous. "I'm not eight. Who even came up with such an idea?"

"Adam," Kevin admitted, laughing at his best friend's idea. "I think that likely he was trying to prank his brothers somehow, but then Jack jumped at the idea because he didn't know what it was and dragged Kaia and Jesse into it. Patience and Alex are too nice to say no, and Jacob and Emma were more or less forced into it, not to be the only ones of us youngsters left out. So you see, tigress, it'll be more embarrassing for you putting up a tough act than actually joining."

Claire couldn't help but sigh. If her adoptive sister and vessel brother (Was that even a thing?) wanted to play, she didn't have the heart to say no.

"Yes, count me in. What hour does the craziness begin?"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Good morning, Mrs. Kensington. What delicious thing are you baking today?"

"Dean Campbell!" the smiling woman in her fifties greeted him. "I should have known that not even this heavy snowfall would deter my best customer from coming."

"You can bet on that, madam!"

"So, what you're getting today? The usual?"

"Well, actually…" Dean doubted, looking at the various glass counters filled with delicacies. "Pie is always a sure go, but I've been thinking about giving a chance to other things too. I mean, all of the mouth-watering smells can't be only from pie!"

Dean was lying left and right, but he couldn't care less. He didn't need any more sweetness in his life than pie could bring him, but… Emma's rejection had stung quite a lot, as stupid as getting a heartbreak over a slice of food might sound.

"Well, can't say I expected to hear that!" Mrs. Kensington grinned, surprised. "But take your fill, dear. Anything that catches your eye? I'm proud to say that for such a little town as Lebanon, I bake quite a variety here."

The hunter looked over the goods several times, trying to decide. In his pocket there was a list with everything that the kids liked, but that could be bought in the market. There wasn't anything from Emma, though, and she hadn't seemed impressed with the pancakes that Dean had prepared for breakfast. He wasn't going to give up though.

"What is this?" he eventually asked, pointing at something that looked like pie but slightly more toasted.

"Pear tart. It's similar to pie, but crust is only at the bottom."

"I'll try this today," Dean decided, taking out his wallet. "Also the usual four slices of apple pie and honey pastries, please."

That day, there was pear tart for lunch dessert at the bunker. Emma didn't show any special positive reaction to it, which made Dean sigh internally. When he returned to his room, the hunter pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, and scribbled something down.

 _1 Pie_ **FAIL**

 _2 Pancake_ **FAIL**

 _3 Tart_ **FAIL**

Looking at it, Dean wondered how long the list would eventually reach.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The ten youngest people in the bunker (nine anunnaki channels and one Prophet of the Lord) were randomly huddled together on the library floor around the Christmas tree, forming a circle, all comfortably tucked in amongst a sea of blankets and pillows. Chatting had been toning down since the adults retired for the night, but sleep was still avoiding them. All lights were already turned off, but the festive tree bathed the darkness with hundreds of tiny coloured bright spots, enough to allow the sleepover attendants to tell each other apart.

Barely before midnight, someone came to check up on them one last time.

"Are all of you comfortable?"

"Castiel, for the last time, YES!" Claire couldn't help the resignation in her voice, which made someone chuckle. "We had dinner, we're warm, we've all brushed our teeth… You can stop mother-henning us."

"It is dangerous to leave a Christmas tree plugged in without supervision."

"I'll watch over them," Jack offered. "I don't sleep much."

"See? We're fine." And just because she didn't want to make the seraph feel unappreciated, she offered an idea. "If you're so curious about what we're doing, at least take a seat and tell us a story."

"A story?" Castiel repeated, unsure but effectively sitting down on a chair. "I am afraid that my skills as a story-teller are lacking in prowess, since it is not my field of expertise."

"Then tell us some of your angel adventures," Jesse suggested, very interested.

And suddenly everyone was offering their own ideas on what they wanted to know about angels or their preconceived notions about them.

"How long does an angel live?"

"How do you reproduce?"

"Are angel chicks hot?"

"That's a sexist question."

"Is there music in Heaven?"

"Sorry, madam. Are angel chicks _or_ dudes hot?"

"They're not, I know it firsthand. Unless you mean in the sense that they can burn out your eyes."

"Where do you keep your harp?"

"How do you know they're not hot?"

"Is master Gabriel brighter than you?"

"Can you sing?"

"Duh, because I've been dead before."

"Is there an actual stairway to Heaven?"

"Do you even know how to read a sheet?"

"Does body swapping count as rape?"

"For fuck's sake, what kind of question is that?!"

"Did Babylon ever reached you guys up there?"

"Hey, watch your mouth! There are toddlers here."

"I thought angels would lay eggs."

"Is Chrysler a running size joke or something?"

"What colour are angel's wings?"

All at once, the voices died down. Apparently someone had finally struck a question that everyone was interested in.

"There is not a standard colour for angel wings," Castiel answered. "Each one of us is unique. Or at least, what little remains of them after the Fall."

"Which colour are yours?"

"I do not believe that I can properly explain you. There are millions of chromatic possibilities in Creation and each angel has been gifted with one of them, but sadly, the human eye can only perceive a small percentage of it."

"Whatever, just tell us. We'll imagine it."

"My wings are mostly black. The same black as a winter night during matins."

For a second, nobody said a thing.

"That's… extremely specific."

"Yes, I already told you," Castiel agreed. "No angel bears the same colour on their wings as another."

"What about your friend Balthazar?"

"Balthazar's wings are silver. Silver as the moonlight reflected on a lake."

"Tell us some more, please! About other angels."

Castiel hummed, remembering many of his brothers' and sisters' wing patterns.

"Well, Gabriel's are golden, a hue like the metal when it has just been melt. My garrison superior, Anna, had vivid red wings, like a bonfire made of chestnut wood. Michael's are a noble matte indigo, like the ocean before a summer storm. My friend Hannah's were a dainty, pale pink, same as a Mitchell cockatoo. Joshua's were an ancient, peaceful green, like sequoia leaves. Naomi's wings, the current caretaker in Heaven, are a polite and professional lilac, like hydrangea blooms. Duma's are silken brown, the hue of cinnamon powder. My former commander Ishim had formal and respectable grey wings, like rainclouds. Muriel's were a bright turquoise, like Polynesian waters. Raphael's were clear auburn, like a fawn's coat. Young Samandriel's wings were a gentle yellow, as morning sunbeams…"

"Is there no angel with the stereotypical snow white wings?"

"There are many angels with different white wings, but I have not ever met the one who carries the snow hue. Metatron wings were white, as the salt extracted from the mother rock that hunters use. My lieutenant Rachel's were also white, like coconut pulp."

"Who has the most beautiful angel wings ever?"

"That is not an easily answered question," Castiel frowned, pensive. "Historically, Lucifer has always been considered the most beautiful of angels, an opinion shared by most. His wings are hot pink and sparkly, because he represents the new light that each morning shines over Earth, dispelling the darkness."

"You don't sound as if you agree."

"I truthfully do not," the seraph admitted. "While extremely beautiful, Lucifer's wings always seemed too gaudy for me. It might be because my own are so discreet, but the wings I consider the most gorgeous until date belonged to the angel Gadreel. His were a rich violet, like the clearing sky right before the beginning of sunrise. When we met he only had a few feathers left due to the Fall, but I still believed them to be breathtaking."

"You speak as if no angel ever had ugly wings, Castiel."

"That is also a matter of perception. I have found most of my sibling's patterns to be aesthetically pleasing, but not all. For example, Zachariah's smoggy dark grey always made me think about rats, and…"

He couldn't continue as a burst of loud laughs received his last statement. For some reason that Castiel couldn't comprehend, most of the children fell into hysterics, rolling on the floor grabbing their bellies and failing to get enough breath to stop. For several minutes, the room was filled with sharp gasps and flailing limbs, until everyone seemed to get a hold of themselves.

"My apologies, did I say anything out of context?" he asked, bewildered.

"Oh, Castiel… You're really something else."

"Haa, my ribs hurt…"

"Someone please tell me you've got this recorded."

"Cas, really. Here you were, practically waxing poetry, and suddenly you came up with a _rat_?"

This caused another wave of laughs, though shorter lived. Castiel didn't know what to do or what to say, since he didn't understand what exactly had happened. Maybe not everything was funnier in Enochian.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

An hour later, most of the kids were already asleep. Jack however was carefully watching the Christmas tree, making sure it didn't catch fire.

Claire turned around under her blanket, readjusting her pillow. Opening her eyes for a second, she met looks with Kevin, two heads away to the left. The prophet was tossing and turning too, not used to sleep on the floor. When he noticed that the girl was also looking at him, he remained still, at first not moving a muscle. After a minute, he innocently stretched an arm across the tree foot, as if only getting more comfortable. The huntress felt her heart beat harder a couple of times, doubting, but at the end she decided to accept the silent invitation and extend her own hand too. The two teenagers could only barely graze their fingertips, with the Christmas tree and two other people between them, but it was enough. For tonight they didn't need more.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

On the other side of the bunker, Sam had pasted a note to Dean's door, where it'd be easily seen in the morning.

 **I'm sorry.**

 **I'll try better with her.**

The breakfast that day, a PB&J sandwich, told Sam that everything was fine again.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Sorry to do this, but I demand to set a new ground rule," Julia ordered, caringly wiping Jesse's bleeding eyes and nose with a wet handkerchief. "You shall not practice your exorcisms near my son, Christmas' spirit or not."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Castiel and both Winchester brothers were in the library, Dean following Emma's progress in learning to read and Sam teaching Jessica the differences between a siren and a mermaid, since both creatures had ended up being mixed in lore over time. The young people were playing outside in the snow, with the exception of Jody's girls that had already departed to South Dakota.

"A, E, I, O, U," Emma recited. "Ba, be, bi, bo, bu. Ca, ce, ci, co, cu."

"That's awesome, you're learning fast! You'll be reading full words in no time," Dean attempted to cheer her, despite the amazon's lack of enthusiasm. "Next letter is D. It's how you start writing my name, which makes it a great letter, right Cas?"

"Yes, Dean. It is very much of my liking."

"See? Here, let me show how to write it," Dean took a pen and a sheet of paper to write it down. "This is uppercase… and this is lowercase."

"I know, Father. There's a full page of greyed D's in the calligraphy notebook to practice over," Emma pointed out, opening said page.

Dean snickered nervously, feeling silly. He knew that his daughter hadn't said it with the intention of making him feel bad, she was only stating a fact in a Cas-like way, but it was proving difficult to get her open up to him.

That was the moment when a sudden visitor intruded in their peaceful time. A loud boom was heard in the war room, scaring everyone shitless.

"Ho ho ho, merry Christmas!" Gabriel laughed loudly, donning the typical red and white outfit of Santa Claus, beard and all. "Have you been good this year?"

"The hell you're doing here again?" Dean grumbled, standing up and checking up what the ruckus was about. "At least this time the lightbulbs survived you."

"Gabriel, you should not encourage erroneous pagan imagery that a single company commercialized for their own benefit," Castiel reproached him.

"Chill out, bro, this is just for the giggles!" the archangel dismissed him. "Besides, what paganism are you talking about? Saint Nicholas is an official member of Daddy's fangirls club since long ago. Whatever, who cares? I brought you a present, so you better thank me!"

The so-called present was actually two brand new double-size beds, already made with linens and all. The four adults were speechless.

"Master Gabriel," Emma greeted him reverently, crouching on a knee and bowing down. "I still haven't had the chance to repay my debt. Is there anything I can do to honour you? The sooner I do, the sooner I'll be free from shame."

"Yeah, right. About that…" Gabriel patted her head awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. "Raise up, lil' lady, you don't need to do that. Uh… why don't you go to the kitchen and fetch me a slice of sweet pie that I'm sure Deano has a secret storage of? And then we're even!"

Emma stood up, but frowned at the suggestion.

"Do you consider me serving as your waitress to be of the same value as saving me from Hell and bringing me back to life?" she asked in an offended tone.

"No, no, of course not, lil' lady," the Messenger of God hastily backtracked. "It was… just a whim? Oh, but look at the hour! I have to be anywhere else, like right now. Deano, Sammich, enjoy your present. Bye, amigos!"

And as fast as he had appeared, Gabriel vanished again. Dean and Sam looked at each other, confusion written in both of their faces.

"So… do you think we can use a little angelic assistance here, Cas?" Dean pondered. "Because I don't think Sam and I can slip these through the maze to our rooms."

Sam shrugged, also considering the idea for a few seconds before agreeing.

"It is not a strain for me, Dean," Castiel accepted, but eyeing suspiciously the new resting furniture. "Though I am not sure about this new size. I am rather fond of the current one, for personal reasons."

"Cas, I'm totally with you in this," Jessica supported him, having similar thoughts.

Neither of them liked the idea of risking losing cuddles.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Later in the afternoon, the remaining children in the bunker were seated around the map table in the war room, discussing something among them and jokingly playing geography games.

"I'm pretty sure that penguins only live in Antarctica," Kevin insisted.

"How do you know?"

"Excuse me, how many of you were in Advanced Placement?"

"I've seen penguins in New Zealand too," Jesse argued.

"Ha, busted!" Adam chuckled, munching the gummy bears that he asked for as Christmas present.

"C'mon, you're supposed to be on my side! You're my bestie!"

"Sorry pal, but Lord forbid (no pun intended) that I go into a fight against a penguin. _Madagascar_ taught me better."

"Actually there are species of penguins as far as the equator, in Galapagos Islands," Castiel corrected, entering the room. "What are you doing?"

"We're playing games. Sharing knowledge, like Sam suggested us," Kaia answered. "The prophet loses this round."

"Oh, shut up, don't choke on your M&M. How did you even know about the Aconcagua? You're not from this world!"

"It's not like my last piece hadn't studied ever in her life, you know?" the dreamwalker retaliated.

"Emma and I have learned the names of all oceans and seas today!" Jack chirped proudly, and the amazon nodded slightly.

"That is very good," Castiel praised them, taking out a chair and joining the circle around the map table. "How did you come up with this game?"

"Since two anunnaki keys have already been found and claimed, we were trying to decide which one of the others belong to each of us," Jacob grumbled, not really interested in the game. "Hopefully the next one is mine and I can get out of here."

"Don't bet on it," Adam shook his head, pointing to the map. "There's one red dot almost reaching Florida, but the others are still overseas. The closest one is still in Kodiak Island, and these things move slowly. The only one in USA is in Arizona, and I'm quite sure that's mine. Dean said we'll go to check up on it as soon as Christmas is over."

"Let us hope that they do not nest while being unreachable. Where is Dean, by the way?"

"Father went to get groceries again, since yesterday he only bought candies," Emma responded emotionlessly. "Sam was complaining about being his turn and getting his ass to move."

Castiel seemed a bit down hearing this information. He hadn't know and he would have liked to accompany Dean shopping, since apparently it was a coupley thing to do.

"Cas, is everything ok?" Adam asked, a little worried. "Are you feeling neglected?"

"No, I am not. Why would you think that?" the angel frowned, bemused.

"Well, hum… I think Dean is awesome as a brother, but he comes off as too curt as a lover."

"… Adam, please do not be offended by this, but with due respect, I have known Dean a lot longer than you," Castiel replied firmly. "I can assure you that he is a very caring and considerate romantic partner."

"Really?" Kevin joined the conversation, smirking and exchanging impish looks with his best friend. "I don't think I believe you, Cas. Can you give us an example?"

Castiel opened his mouth to answer, but whatever he was going to say, he thought it better. He had clearly noticed the true intentions behind the two youngsters' curiosity.

"I will not share such information with you," he refused. "I am under the impression that you would take advantage of it to mock Dean, something that he does not deserve."

"No, Cas! How could you think so low of us?" Adam feigned insult, a hand to his heart. "I feel wounded. Since you're involving yourself with one of my brothers, you're practically family to me too. I was only making sure that Dean treated you well."

"I am very well taken care of, thank you."

"I'd like to know too," Jack spoke, innocence and naivety shining in his eyes. "You and Dean don't behave the same as in romantic movies."

"Me too," incredibly Emma was of the same opinion. "I still can't understand what two males who can't conceive a baby together might do to entertain themselves."

The angel sighed deeply, feeling defeated by some many requests.

"I understand," he eventually yielded. "I will satisfy your curiosity with a few details, but you must swear on your souls that you will not, under any circumstances, hold this information against Dean. And you must know that if you ever break your oath to an angel, said angel will definitely know. And you shall be punished."

For a moment, the seraph looked like all divine wrath upon to rain over them. A couple of gulps were heard, and everyone nodded in agreement. Nobody would dare to say a word to the older hunter.

"Despite his rough outer appearance, Dean is actually very cute," Castiel said conversationally. "After I returned from the Empty, he was adamant about me needing a birthday date to celebrate; since I had none, he decided to make it the 18th September, because that was the day I raised him from perdition. Once, when we were working a case on the road, a tiny wildflower got stuck in the windshield; Dean picked it, but instead of throwing it away, he placed it in one of the button holes of my coat. And another time, we walked by one of those machines filled with cheap prizes, where you have to skilfully manoeuvre a hook to fish out one; Dean spent a few dollars on it until he got me a tiny bee plushie. He looked so thrilled that I could not bring myself to remind him that it would have been cheaper and easier if he had simply bought it from a toystore."

Castiel didn't add anything else, reckoning that he had already spoken enough. Certainly, the kids had been listening intently, so much that when the heavy door of the bunker creaked, they almost jumped in their seats.

"Hey, I'm back! Shit, it's snowing again," he cursed, going downstairs with his arms full of groceries bags, before noticing everyone looking at him. "What? What's the matter?"

"Oh, nothing," the cambion sniggered. "Castiel was just defending your honour."

Dean looked befuddled by the comment, but nobody bothered to clear it to him. After all, they had sworn it to an angel of the Lord.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_

 **The bedroom distribution in the bunker has been mentioned a few times before, but this is how they are occupied at the moment:**

 _\- Nº 11:_ Dean (canon)

 _\- Nº 12:_ Adam and Kevin

 _\- Nº 13:_ Jacob

 _\- Nº 14:_ Emma

 _\- Nº 15_ : Castiel (canon)

 _\- Nº 16:_ Claire and Alex

 _\- Nº 17:_ Jessica (but barely used anymore)

 _\- Nº 18:_ Charlie (currently empty for obvious reasons)

 _\- Nº 19:_ Kaia and Patience

 _\- Nº 20:_ Julia

 _\- Nº 21:_ Sam (canon)

 _\- Nº 22:_ Jack (canon) and Jesse


	32. Chapter 31

_This chapter is 100% Destiel fluff and lime, no plot whatsoever. You've been warned! ;-)_

* * *

 **Chapter 31**

When Castiel finally went to Dean's bedroom after dinner and after speaking with Jody on the phone, making sure that her three girls had arrived safely, it was with a small bag in his hand. It was a bright-coloured package with a fancy ribbon, obviously festive. The hunter was already in his sleepwear, the usual worn out t-shirt and boxers, cleaning and putting in place the tools and knives that decorated the room.

He was trying not to look as if he had been waiting for his angel to come back. He was also failing at it.

"Hey Cas, what you got there?" Dean asked, curious.

"It seems that everyone has already retired until morning, Dean," Castiel answered, fidgeting in the spot and squeezing the small bag in a clearly nervous tic. "It is also past midnight, therefore technically we are already on Christmas Day. It may not be to your knowledge, but in several countries around the world this is actually the moment in which people exchange tokens of affection, the night from 24th to 25th instead of in the morning."

"Dude, you're blabbering," Dean grinned, getting up and setting aside whatever he was polishing. "If you want to do the giving out presents now, I'm ok with that. But I didn't know you got something for me too. You didn't have to bother."

While Dean crouched and retrieved something from under the bed, Castiel couldn't keep the insecurities from showing in his voice.

"It was not a bother," he denied. "However, the… _nature_ of my token is not conventional, and this characteristic only dawned on me after I had already purchased it. I did not want it to become a source of embarrassment for you, Dean, therefore I rather deliver it in private."

The Winchester handed out his own package to the seraph.

"Well, it's not like you don't already know what's mine," Dean smiled sheepishly, rubbing his nape. "But I… uh, I hope you like it."

Castiel left his coloured bag on the desk for the time being, and carefully unwrapped the gift. Just as Dean had commented some time ago, it was a set of pajamas. Standard two pieces, white pants and long-sleeved shirt with printed honeybees.

"Dean, this is so cute!" the angel smiled tenderly, caressing the fabric. "And so soft too!"

"Yeah, I know. Got it 100% cotton. So… you like it? Really?"

"Of course I like it. Thank you, Dean. Although I still do not understand why you wanted to give me pajamas. You never explained the reason."

The hunter felt his face warming up just a notch.

"It's because… well, you know, when we're in bed, I… sometimes I want to roll over or something, and since you're _above_ the blanket… I kinda can't, so I thought…"

"Have I been disturbing your sleep, Dean?" Castiel frowned, as if that fact really concerned him.

"No. No, it's not that. But with pajamas, you know… You don't have to be above the blanket. You can get in bed for real. And… all that."

A figurative bulb lighted up in Castiel's brain, finally comprehending what the Righteous Man was struggling to communicate, and couldn't help to smile again.

"I would very much like to cuddle with you under the blanket, Dean."

"Shit, Cas. Don't make it sound so cheesy, like we're in a damn rom-com. This is only for my better sleeping. If you slept, you'd understand."

"I actually understand it very well, Dean," Castiel corrected him beatifically, hugging his treasured new pajamas to his chest. "You are under the erroneous assumption that I do not partake anymore in human activities since I recovered my grace from Metatron, but you are wrong. I find satisfaction in allowing myself to indulge in some of them from time to time, such as enjoying a shower or tasting food. To lie beside you and sleep an hour every night is something that I find very rewarding, both in the sense of resting my body and being close to you."

"Really?" Dean couldn't deny that he was surprised. "Whoa, I didn't know. Good thing you've told me beforehand, or I'd have a heart attack if I woke up and saw you sleeping. I'd think you were dying again."

"Claire had a similar reaction after she asked me why his father's body looked older than when she had seen him for the last time. I had to thoroughly explain to her the many misfortunes this vessel had suffered, and how I sometimes withdraw minutely my grace to let it act as humanly as possible."

"Hum… ok then. Where's my present?" Dean grinned mischievously.

The reminder made Castiel fidgeting again, looking at the desk where he had put it. The hunter arched a brow.

"What's wrong? Isn't it for me?"

"Yes, of course it is for you," Castiel responded, picking up the small bag again but doubting to actually handing it over. "Dean, please, there is something you must understand first. This token has no actual meaning other than my feelings for you, it is not a declaration of intent. I followed a line of thought after unintentionally witnessing an act that I was not invited to, and… at this moment I am beginning to believe that this might be a very unwelcome gift. I do not want to upset you, Dean."

"That was quite a speech, Cas," Dean chuckled. "C'mon, I'm not going to be mad, whatever it is. Just let me see it."

Sighing deeply, Castiel surrendered and handed the festive bag to the hunter. Dean tore open the fancy ribbon and peeked inside. Instantly, air got stuck in his lungs, eyes wide open, and cheeks turning warmer by the second. Licking his lips, he slowly took out what was inside.

It was panties. Pink satiny panties. And surely the right size for men.

Before Castiel could start apologizing and trying to explain the reasoning for such a Christmas present, Dean had already fallen backwards on the bed laughing crazily, panties in his fist. Rolling around gripping his stomach and flailing like a fish out of the water, not giving a fuck for whoever he may have woken up. At least this reaction was making the angel a little less worried about the impropriety of his gift.

"Dean, I do not understand," he spoke after the human had calmed down enough. "You were wearing this in that erotic fantasy of yours that I came upon unintentionally, but your behaviour was quite different. I had concluded that you liked them."

"Oh Cas, you poor naive feather-brain…" Dean snickered, motioning a hand for the seraph to sit down on the bed with him. "Yes, I like them, but not in the sense that that wet dream made you think. Not your fault, though. Considering the subtext (fuck, how much I hate the word), probably anyone would think the same."

"In what sense?"

"The panties, they have a story, Cas," Dean spoke fondly, remembering. "You know, while I was growing up, Dad was obsessed with finding the demon that had killed Mum. We didn't have a lot of money, so our clothes were all cheap stuff. It kept us dressed, but they weren't always comfortable. And then when I was 19, I was about to get laid for the first time with this hot chick, Rhonda Hurley. I mean _really_ get laid, not just a blowjob or other sexy stuff. Also she was 23, an older chick, so I was… I was nervous, ok? And she obviously noticed. She said that I was so worried about making a good impression that I wasn't going to enjoy it, and likely she was right. We were in her room, so Rhonda opened a drawer and threw some pink panties at me, telling me to try them on. At first I was like 'Hell, no!' but she insisted. Either do it, or no fun tonight. So I caved in."

Castiel listened intently, mesmerized by the story.

"It was kinda humiliating, to tell the truth, but after that I was no longer nervous. I mean, I already felt ridicule, wearing girly pink panties, so it wasn't like I could embarrass myself any more. But the matter was that they were so soft, Cas," Dean sighed. "I had never felt anything so soft against my skin, against my junk. Back then I was already of legal age, so I was able to help Dad in the money department, playing pool in bars and doing random jobs here and there. But until that moment, those panties were the nicest thing I had ever touched. It wasn't even something sexual, they just… felt good."

"I apologize for misinterpreting the meaning that this garment has for you, Dean," Castiel said, disheartened. "It was not my intention to spoil such a clearly important memory for you."

"Hey now, don't make it bigger than it is. They're just a piece of fabric," Dean shook his head, an idea suddenly popping in his mind. "Do you… well, perhaps… want me to wear them for you?"

Dean totally did not imagine the sharp inhale that Castiel did, straightening his back even more. Annoying butterflies started to come alive in his belly.

"As I said before, Dean, there was no meaning in my gift other than to please you. I did not hold any expectations."

"Who cares, do you want or not?"

"If… if you are amenable," Castiel gulped, "I certainly would like that very much."

The Winchester nodded slightly, getting up from the bed and taking off his t-shirt. Springing into action, the angel stood up too and turned around, granting his charge some level of privacy that he certainly appreciated, even if he didn't ask for it. That was a part of their relationship that still needed some time and working out.

"Ok, you can look now," Dean said after a moment, trying to sound way more confident than he actually felt. "Well? What do you think? I'm a bit impressed that you got the exact size, I admit."

Castiel was silent for a minute, adoringly observing the form of the Righteous Man and how brightly his soul shone, specially without clothes on his skin. Not that they did much in preventing the angel from gazing upon said soul, but he also liked to count the freckles on Dean's body when he was sleeping, and for that clothes were a real nuisance. At least the panties only hid the minimum for decency, leaving wide expanses of skin to marvel at.

"You are beautiful, Dean. So very beautiful in every aspect," Castiel came closer, raising a hand and caressing Dean's cheek, gently kissing his lips. "But despite that, I now realize how bad of an idea it was to gift you something from your lustful illusion."

"Why?" the hunter asked in a guttural whisper, kissing back.

"I was absolutely sincere before when I said that my gift held no expectations, Dean. However now, seeing you like this… I cannot help but want more."

"It's not bad wanting more, Cas. Actually it's good. The matter is _what_ more you want?"

"Dean, I…" he paused for a second, thinking how to best express his desires. "I would like to perform the same act that I was doing in your dream, when you wore these same panties. Would you allow me, Dean? Please?"

The hunter almost choked, barely believing what the angel was asking of him. That dream… oh, fuck. An awesome wet dream, that one was. He against the wall, Castiel on his knees doing sinful things to his nether regions. But to make it real? He wasn't so sure.

"Do you trust me, Dean?" Castiel uttered earnestly in his ear.

And really, that single question was everything they both needed.

"Yes, Cas."

Dean kissed Castiel passionately, gripping the dark hair through his fingers, devouring the fresh-water tasting mouth and nibbling the plump lips. His other hand sneaked under the angel's shirt, eager to touch skin, but Castiel took it out and instead pushed Dean gently back on the bed. This was his game, not Dean's.

"Make yourself comfortable, Dean."

The hunter did. He breathed deeply, trying to control his rampant heartbeat, knowing that it would only go faster from then onwards if his angel actually followed through his purposed task. Pillow under his head, memory foam mattress under his body… and a hot piece of celestial wavelength above, ready to devour him. Not that he complained, mind you.

Castiel started slowly, not wanting to rush this chance. He kissed Dean again, no tongue this time, before moving to his jaw and ears. He licked the earlobe.

"Cas, what are you doing?" Dean asked, rubbing the angel's shoulder.

"Trying to find your erogenous zones."

"Oh, right." He coughed a little. "You, uh… you may want to move somewhere else, buddy. Ears never did anything for me. In fact it feels sorta weird."

Castiel didn't say anything, but followed the indication and moved to Dean's neck, where he received a better response in the form of a low rumble from his throat. Continuing down, he sowed a line of little kisses across his sternum and chest, before daring a tentative lick to the left nipple.

Dean groaned. Castiel smiled.

While he was busy entertaining the left nipple with his tongue, Castiel placed a hand on the right one and began to tease it with his thumb. Dean bit his lower lip and slightly arched his back, encouraging the loving ministrations. The angel traded after a couple of minutes, licking the right nipple and thumbing the left one.

"Is it good, Dean?" Castiel asked, his breath laboured, trailing kisses down the hunter's navel. "As good as in the dream?"

"Yeah, Cas, it's good." Dean swallowed hard, carding his fingers through his friend's hair. "You're doing fine."

"Mmmm… I like that, when you massage my scalp." Then he abruptly stopped, having reached the elastic band of the panties. "Dean, I may need some guidance for this. I do not want to hurt you."

"Cas, you… are you sure you want to do this? You don't have to, it's ok."

"I _do_ want to pleasure you, Dean. Please. But I did not remain in your erotic fantasy enough time to observe the full process. It is likely that I will result disappointing."

"No way in Hell, Cas," Dean chuckled. "Don't stress yourself, only do what you feel comfortable with. Just… be careful with the teeth."

This was no vain encouragement. Dean already was half hard and tingling just from feeling the seraph's respiration near his dick, celestial hands stroking his thighs. Then Castiel started nuzzling him and providing delicate pecks over the satin to his swollen flesh, making him full hard in no time. When the flushed head of his member couldn't be contained anymore by the notorious tent in the panties, the angel finally pulled them down and set him free, immediately gripping him tight.

Dean wasn't sure if this was a clichéd _déjà vu_.

"You have a very pretty penis, Dean," Castiel appraised him, squeezing cautiously. "I was very meticulous while rebuilding it, since I knew how important was this part of your body for you, even when I did not understand the urge of fornication."

"Jesus fucking Christ, Cas. Since when are you an expert in cocks?"

"I have seen Jimmy's, naturally. And yours, and the Pizza Man's. But I find yours to be the most appealing one."

Dean hid his face behind his hands, flustered, not knowing how to respond to that. No woman had ever praised him that way. Yeah, the usual strong and hot and big were common, but nobody had ever told him that his dick was _pretty_. It was strangely endearing.

And then Castiel licked him. Curiously, tentatively, softly his tongue caressed the top of Dean's member. The hunter bit down on his wrist, trying to keep in the lewd gasps that fought to leave his throat.

"Dean…" the angel whined in sorrow, climbing back over him and kissing his cheek. "Don't do that, please. I want to hear you."

"Holy shit, Cas… We're in a hole underground, surrounded by echoing hallways. There's even a grid in the damn door! We don't need to let everyone know that we're doing naughty stuff."

Castiel pondered the fact for a moment and seemed to reach a conclusion. He placed an open hand over the wall and chanted some kind of Enochian spell. A ring of iridescent sigils shone all around in the middle of the walls before disappearing.

"Done. I have thoroughly sound-proofed this room, Dean. Nobody will be able to hear anything from outside, unless you purposely intend for your voice to carry or in case of emergency." Castiel cupped lovingly the hunter's face and kissed his forehead, his nose, his mouth. "Will you grant me to hear you now, please?"

Dean didn't think he could deny his angel anything even if he tried. As Castiel returned to his previous post above his cock, warm and wet tongue playfully surveying the field, very obscene sounds cascaded from the Winchester's lips. When the angel first attempted to suck, Dean couldn't help to writhe in pleasure, bending up his knees, toes and hands clenching the sheets.

"You… you feel quite ex-experienced at this, C-cas…"

"I am certainly not," he replied, lapping at the underside of Dean's crown. "But my interest in this ability became exponentially larger after witnessing your dream, so I… I subtracted a cucumber from Sam when he went to get groceries, and I have been practicing a little. Although I must say, Dean, you taste better than the vegetable."

Dean absolutely did _not_ squeak at the mental image of the seraph training his blowing skills for him, thank you very much. It was a long shot from the best blowjob he had ever received, truly speaking, but the innocent exploration and the fervent touches were doing things to him. The hunter didn't dare to calculate how fast he could cum if his best-friend-aka-bed-partner mastered this particular skill on him.

The tip of Castiel's tongue ran over the sensitive millimetre of skin where his shaft joined his sack, and Dean totally felt his bones melting. Castiel arched an eyebrow, clearly noticing the utmost positive reaction, and repeated his last actions in order to find what exactly had pleased so much the Righteous Man. Massaging the scrotum, thumbing the soaking slit, humping the shaft, sucking the head, swallowing down as much as he could, licking the underside… and oh, there it was.

The angel smiled wickedly, apparently having found one of Dean's jackpots, and teased mercilessly the tiny spot. He pressed and caressed it, while twirling his tongue again and again over Dean's glands and sucking randomly. Dean was panting, feeling the warm knot in his lower abdomen growing tenser by the second.

"C-cas… that's e-enough," he gasped, looking down at Castiel and grabbing his hair to get his attention. "I'm on the edge."

"I fully intend to make you cross that edge, Dean."

Oh, shit. He was already stumbling on the verge of losing it just seeing Castiel, an angel of the fucking Lord, blowing him. No, not just any angel but _his_ angel.

Castiel focused back to his task, and the next time he barely grazed the hunter's sensitive point… that was it. Dean lost it, unable to hold in the ecstatic sounds that reverberated across his entire body. He barely had a second of lucidity to push away the seraph's head before the orgasm hit him full force, taking himself in hand and spilling over his navel.

After allowing Dean a couple of minutes of afterglow, Castiel voiced out his confusion.

"I believed it is customary to finish in your partner's mouth."

"First of all, there's no 'customary' in sex, Cas. People do what people like, and if you don't want, then you don't have to," he retorted sluggishly, still breathing hastily. "And second, no way you're going to swallow in your first blowjob without choking yourself, which yeah, so not sexy. That's more practice than a cucumber will ever give you."

"Oh, I see. Thank you for looking after me, Dean."

"My pleasure, Cas. And I mean it," Dean grinned predatorily, laughing at his own innuendo. "Do you need help with that?"

"Help with what?"

Dean raised himself up on his elbows, pointedly looking at the angel's crotch, expecting to find… well, a boner. Or at least a semi, some kind of sign that he had been into it as much as Dean, but there was nothing. Not a tent, not even the smallest wet patch of precum.

"What the fuck, Cas…" Dean grunted annoyed, sitting up and frowning. "You just blew me, made me cum, and still nothing? Can you even get hard, man?"

Good thing that Castiel had sound-proofed the room before, because Dean wasn't sure of being able to contain his frustration. He was starting to feel dirty, as if he had taken advantage of the angel and gave nothing in return, and that was not him. Dean Winchester had always been a generous partner to have some fun with.

"Of course I can get hard, Dean. My body functions correctly and accordingly in every way."

"Then why are you not…?" The hunter flailed a hand towards the obvious lack of arousal in the angel's pants. "Doesn't it mean anything to you what you just did to me?"

"No, it meant a lot to me, Dean! Please, never doubt that," he assured him, pleading blue eyes wide open. "But you know that as an angel, human sensations are more difficult to grasp and filter, even in a vessel."

"But you said that you can restrain the effect of your grace or whatever when you want to feel things," and suddenly Dean realized the implications of that fact, aghast. "Wait a damn… You're doing it on purpose? You're cutting yourself from feeling?"

Castiel looked away, not wanting to face his beloved's fury.

"I was not sure if perceiving physical signs of desire on me would not offend you, Dean," he confessed regretfully.

"Oh, awesome. This just keeps getting better and better," Dean laughed sarcastically, hurt clear in his voice. "You know that's bullshit, Cas. We've been working on this… this relationship between us for months, since our encounter with Ramiel. Don't you think that I had enough time to get used to the idea of you? For fuck's sake, I know what junk you've got in your pants, and if I can deal with it then so can you. Hell, I'm tired of this crap. I'm gonna show you right now."

Dean stood up and put on the pink panties back in place, wiping the cum of his belly with a corner of the blanket. Then he grabbed Castiel by the wrist and forced him on his feet too, yanking at his belt buckle to open it.

"Dean, wait. What are you doing?" There was a clear tone of alarm in Castiel's voice.

"Taking off your pants. Handjob? Gonna get you off too."

"That is not… This is not right, Dean." He walked backwards, trying to dissuade the hunter, but only achieved to be pushed against the wall. "Please, listen to me. I do not… DEAN, STOP!"

Not having other option, Castiel took Dean by the shoulders and pushed him away, using only a bit of his angelic strength. The hunter finally stopped and looked up at him, stunned.

"Please stop, Dean," Castiel muttered, raising a hand to keep the human at bay. "This is not right, not like this. I have pleasured you because I wanted to make you feel good, but you… you do not, Dean. You only want to be on par with me, as if you owed me something. That is thinking about yourself, Dean, not about me."

Hearing these words, all fury evaporated from him almost instantly. Castiel saw the exact moment in which an overwhelming shame crept up the Winchester's face.

"I'm… I'm sorry, Cas," he whispered, looking down apologetically. "I don't know what… what I was thinking, treating you like this. I'm sorry. Fuck, I'm so sorry."

"Dean," Castiel sighed, going back to him and embracing him tenderly. "It is alright, Dean. I forgive you. You have not harmed me, but I worried for a moment. You do not owe me anything, ever. Do you understand this, Dean? I love you."

Dean hugged him back, slightly trembling in his powerful arms and hiding face in the crook of the heavenly warrior's neck. Anger gone, the nice sensations from his afterglow were still present, and now a welcome lull was slowly invading his body.

"A day will come when you will be ready, Dean. In heart, body and mind. Do not pressure yourself to hasten it," Castiel murmured in his ear, soothingly rubbing his back. "For tonight, you have already filled me with happiness, Dean. Let's get to bed and rest together."

The Winchester nodded, obedient. For the first time, Castiel used his grace to change clothes in the blink of an eye and wore his new bees-printed pajamas to bed. He proceeded to tuck in the both of them under the blanket, and sighed contentedly as lying down next to his human charge. Lastly, he turned off the lamp and closed his eyes.

"Hey, yesterday you certainly took your sweet time coming back from checking up on the kids," Dean commented in the dark. "What were you doing?"

"They asked me to tell them about angels' wings colours for the sleepover, since I am not proficient as a story-teller."

"Hum, that sounds funny." He scooted closer to the angel, rapidly losing the battle against slumber. "Talk to me too until I fall asleep, Cas."

"As you wish," Castiel smiled. "Uriel had solid orange wings, like a monarch butterfly. Hester's were sunflower yellow, and Inias' intense scarlet like an immaculate ruby. Bartholomew had light green wings, like fresh grass covered in dew, while Malachi's were a deep ochre, like the simoun raging over the dunes. Young Hael had pure magenta wings, like a sunset on the beach. Ambriel's wings were a bit similar to mine, satin black like raven feathers…"

And Dean was already snoring like a bear cub.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	33. Chapter 32

_The fifteenth and last season of Supernatural is about to start…_

 _I've been a lot slower writing this fanfic than I expected, because you know, life happens. But I don't want anyone in future chapters thinking how un-original I am, merely copying the show's plot points, whatever they might be. So, **AT THE END OF THIS CHAPTER** , I'm going to write some spoilers backwards. It's up to you, readers, if you want to read them or not._

 _08/10/2019_

* * *

 **Chapter 32**

In the morning, after breakfast, Dean took the kids outside for a basic lesson on how to find more easily a monster lair under a snowfall, inviting Julia along. Related to the snow, also Castiel decided to help by grabbing a shovel and a big broom, in order to remove the squishy substance from the outdoors path and stairs… all this while parading around still in his new bees pajamas, slippers and trenchcoat.

"Cas, I don't think that was a sensible attire to do chores in the cold," Sam mentioned in the library, sipping from a mug of hot cocoa, after the angel returned the tools to the storage room. "Now you're damp."

"It is not a bother to me," Castiel answered with a content smile, tapping in a particle of his grace and being instantly dry and warm again. "But I did not want to change clothes yet. I found humorous Dean's shyness during breakfast, when everyone complimented my new garb."

"It really suits you," the younger hunter admitted, feeling a grin spread on his own face too. "I'm only grateful that the tease wasn't too much for him to bear and didn't undress you himself right there and then."

This joking comment caused an actual idea to pop up in Castiel's mind.

"Oh, about that… Sam, there is something I would like to offer you," he spoke, setting back to his usual stern demeanour. "But as much as I have learned about human behaviour, I am not able to present you the current subject without some level of very likely discomfort for you."

Sam looked at his friend, his curiosity piqued.

"Ok, thanks for the warning," he nodded, readying himself for whatever the angel could say. "What is it?"

"You are aware that for some time the profound bond between me and Dean has… taken another route," Castiel paused, waiting for the human to acknowledge this fact. "And until now you have remained a loyal friend and brother, supporting us, for which I cannot express enough my gratitude."

"It's nothing, Cas, really. I'm actually as happy as you two are, finally seeing you both trying to get something good for yourselves. That was long overdue, to tell the truth."

"Well then, yesterday, after I exchanged gifts with Dean, we… hum…" Castiel frowned, making an effort to find mild words but that would still convey the meaning of what he intended to say. "Let's say that our relationship advanced another step. And it was an important step, Sam, of that I am convinced. But at first Dean restrained himself from expressing vocally the outcome of my actions on him, worried about the possibility of being overheard. Therefore, I set an Enochian spell in the walls of his room, sound-proofing it. Not a single sound will escape the bedroom now, unless it is an emergency. And since it is to my understanding that you and Jessica engage in similar intimate activities, I thought that you might be interested in benefitting from the same spell too."

A minute of silence followed Castiel's little speech, Sam no doubt cringing internally at the mental image of whatever his brother and his friend might have been doing. Not that he minded, or that he expected them to be celibate after years of stacking up UST… he simply didn't want to know. All the more reason why Sam appreciated the angel's attempt to soften the blow.

"That's, uh… that's nice of you, Cas, thanks. And in fact, since you mention it… ahem, the answer is yes. It'd be welcome, that spell."

"Alright," Castiel nodded, standing up. "I will set it immediately, then."

When the blue-eyed warrior disappeared in the hallway, Sam inhaled deeply, messing a hand through his short hair and trying to figure out if the last conversation had actually happened.

"It is done, Sam," Castiel returned after a moment, still in his pajamas and trenchcoat, and walked upstairs. "You can put it to use whenever you want. I will go now to join the others. Dean made it sound like a hunter lesson, but from Jack's description, it seems more like they are playing hide-and-seek in the snow."

Sam chuckled at this, hearing the heavy metal door opening and closing. There were times when his big brother behaved like a child as much as any of the teenagers, lessons be damned. It was clear that he wanted them to have some fun, anunnaki channels or not. But now, with Castiel gone… he was alone in the bunker. With Jess.

Springing to action, Sam walked to the kitchen and found his soulmate glaring at the oven, arms crossed.

"Puppy, I'm sure we need to exorcise this oven," she huffed, annoyed. "Either it's possessed, or has somehow become sentient and hates me."

"What's the matter, precious?" Sam humoured her, hugging her from behind. "Is it being mean to you?"

"It is. Again. Not only it almost burned the checker cookies I baked for Emma like Dean asked me, but now it refuses to cook the turkey. At this pace, Christmas dinner will be New Year's!"

"I promise you, the moment we sell the second car in the garage, we'll give this kitchen a full update. We had to keep the money from the first for food, but Kevin is finding us awesome bids on the internet, so the second won't be long." He kissed the top of her head and lowered his voice. "However, right now… I have something interesting to tell you."

Bowing his head, Sam lusciously whispered something in her ear.

"Really?" Jessica smirked playfully, turning around in his arms and placing her hands on his chest.

"Yes, really. So, if you've got an hour to spare, perhaps I could pay that pressure point in your lower back the attention it deserves?"

"This overgrown chicken won't be ready in another three more hours at least. I might be convinced to take a break, specially if you wear your new polkadot stockings for me, puppy."

Sam froze for a second.

"What new stockings?"

"Oops, looks like it won't be a surprise anymore," Jessica laughed mischievously, grabbing handfuls of his buttocks. "I bought a crimson matching pair for us, thigh garter and all. What do you say, handsome? Are you up to play?"

"Oh yes, precious," Sam groaned, kissing her passionately and lifting her to place her legs around his waist, heading to their bedroom. "I'm definitely _up_ to play."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

After Christmas dinner was over and everyone was comfortably snuggling in their beds, one young Adam Milligan suddenly woke up in the middle of the night, covered in sweat and his heart beating like crazy. He held his forehead with a hand, feeling a sudden wave of vertigo wash over him, but it ended before he could even start to figure out what had happened. Did he have a too vivid nightmare or something? He didn't remember.

In the scarce light that came in through the grid in the door from the hallway, Adam looked around from his makeshift bed on the floor. He listened to Kevin's peaceful breathing, his sleep undisturbed. As much as he could tell, everything was normal, but the nagging feeling at the back of his mind that something was wrong didn't leave him.

Deciding to get up and walk around a little to calm down, the youngest Winchester quietly left the room. For a moment he entertained the idea of going to the batcave and watch TV, but he wasn't really in the mood to pay attention to whatever crap they were airing at damn o'clock. So, a mug of hot milk would do. It always helped him to sleep when his mum prepared it.

But a few minutes later, when Adam was crossing the war room and heading back to room 12, he casually glanced at the map table… and was shocked. His warm beverage slipped from his hand, glass shattering on the floor.

"Crap," he cursed, wide eyes not leaving the purple dot that showed up in the map. "Of course it couldn't wait only a day more, dammit. Now what?"

As little as he knew about the hunter life, one thing that the boy had learned was that time was of the essence. Tough luck that his brothers were sleeping.

"Okay, Adam. Sooner or later you would be doing this too. Maybe," he spoke to himself, clearing his throat and closing his eyes. "Ahem, calling to… praying now to the angel Castiel. Cas, can you hear me? This is Adam here, in the war room. If you're not currently busy doing who knows what with Dean, can you come for a moment, please? My celestial key has decided to nest, and I don't know if wake up my brothers now or wait until morning."

A couple of minutes later, while Adam occupied himself cleaning the milk and the broken glass, not only the seraph appeared but also his two brothers, his future half-sister-in-law and even his semi-nephew nephilim on the side. Yes, some families bore weird relatives titles, like your head could explode if you dug deep enough.

"… I certainly didn't intend to wake up half of the bunker," Adam greeted them apologetically.

"After one of these bugs decided to stop and laze around?" Dean grunted, suffocating a yawn and pulling out a chair. "Yeah, no way in Hell we stay in bed any longer."

"This is a matter of import, Adam. I could not in good conscience keep this information from your brothers."

"I was already awake," Jack shrugged, sitting down with them.

"I always wake up when I lose my snuggle machine," Jessica admitted, crossing her arms over the table and leaning down her head, sleepily closing her eyes again.

"Let's see what we have here," Sam mumbled, rubbing the sleep off his eyes and turning on his laptop. "Coordinates in Arizona state… there we go, Crestfallen Pines. A horse-ranch region. Pretty peaceful, no gruesome unnatural crimes. In fact, no weird activity at all… Oh."

" _Oh_ what, Sammy?" Dean asked, head leaning on his elbow.

"The Principality key may be nesting only for a few hours now, but it seems that its effects already began three or four days ago. But, uh… the affected are horses, not people. Apparently the stallions have become increasingly restless and aggressive, even breaking down their stables in order to… breed, even if the mares won't be in heat until spring."

"Are you kidding me?" Dean complained angrily. "We got a case about horses raping mares?"

"It's not a laughing matter, Dean," Sam bitchfaced him. "The man in this article lost half an arm after the horse that he had been training since it was born bit him. I'm not a vet, but I know that a well-cared-for animal doesn't attack its caretaker unless something has agitated it. And it's not an isolated case, there are several. Those stallions are being treated with tranquilizers."

"Ok, whatever, as if all the weird shit doesn't happen to us," he dismissed it, standing up. "Gonna pack my duffel. You do the same and we take on the road in an hour."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Around seven in the morning, the Winchester group was still halfway to Crestfallen Pines. Stopping in a road dinner to get some decent breakfast, Dean was horrified to see that there was no pie in the menu.

"What kind of shitty place doesn't serve pie? Of any kind, but some pie?"

"It's because we specialize in kinds of bread, good sir, not pastries," an incredibly beautiful waitress answered behind him, a grimace on her face. "The most similar thing you'll find here is jelly roll."

Both of his younger brothers snickered, finding it funny watching Dean make a fool of himself.

"Well, that's the appeal of travelling around, right sweetheart?" Dean attempted to redeem himself, putting on his most charming smile. "To discover all the delicious things that the world has to offer."

A stunned gasp escaped Sam's throat, flabbergasted at the other hunter's cheekiness in front of this supposed angel lover. Dean ignored him, but it surely took the waitress' attention. The four guests were very handsome: the tall one, the loudmouth one, the weird one and even the boy, despite being a bit on the young side for her, was eye-candy too.

"Are you a band?" she asked, curious, thinking that maybe the one in the accountant getup was their manager or something.

"No, not at all. The bitch is my younger brother, the prat is my youngest brother, and this dork next to me is my… my best friend."

"Yes, exactly. This jerk here is our older, ancient, almost decrepit brother," Adam confirmed, smiling wickedly.

The waitress arched an eyebrow, somehow picking up the strange vibes between them, and wisely opted not to make any more questions, leaving them a few more minutes to choose their breakfast.

"Dude, what the hell you're doing?" Sam hissed at Dean when they were alone.

"Who, me? What I did?"

"You were flirting with her!"

"Yeeeah, so? That's what I always do."

"Right in front of Cas?!" Sam insisted, offended for their friend.

He watched with great satisfaction as the grin slipped from Dean's face, being replace by a healthy dose of embarrassment and swallowing an ounce of shame. Castiel however wasn't in the same frequency as Sam.

"What about me?" he inquired, looking up from his menu.

"Dean was flirting with that woman. You're supposed to be his… boyfriend or something, aren't you?" Adam sided with Sam. "Why didn't you stop him?"

"Oh, that. I am not bothered by it," Castiel admitted, leaving everyone speechless. "Flirting is part of Dean's personality, like is obsessing over his car or stuffing himself with pie. And either way, even if he flirts with someone, I trust him not to actually carry out whatever indecent propositions he might tempt others with."

The older hunter felt like an invisible hand was squeezing his heart roughly, overwhelmed by the seraph's faith in him. Castiel was right, of course; Dean would never betray him like that, not now when they were finally building something. But the fact that he understood him, knew him so well that Dean didn't even have to explain himself was almost numbing.

Appeased by this thought sown in his mind, Dean contentedly focused back in ordering their breakfast, not realizing the somber hue that had covered his companion's eyes.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

After getting a couple of rooms in a motel, the four males went around to take a first look of the town. Crestfallen Pines was an arid, dusty place, where not a single pine was in sight.

"Makes you wonder why they didn't call the town Crestfallen Cypress at least," Sam commented on it, since cypresses there were.

"Is there any reason why the flora in the vicinity would be crestfallen to begin with?" Castiel pondered, slightly distressed.

"Ok, you two philosophers, stop right there and focus on the case," Dean stopped in the middle of the street. "There are a bunch of horse ranches around, so we better split up and start asking questions. Adam and I will visit the ranches, in case we get a whiff of the anunnaki key. You two walk around and see if there's any crazy gossip among the townsfolk. Meeting for dinner at 20h."

Apparently ranchers didn't get breaks on holiday. Dean and Adam visited six during the afternoon and they were still bustling with activity despite being the day after the 25th.

"Howdy, partner!" a bulky man whit a rope in his hands and wearing a wool vest greeted them. "Ya looking for something?"

"Yeah, thanks," Dean answered, plastering a smile on his face and walking towards the wooden fence. "My pipsqueak brother here is becoming too comfy in his city college life, you know, so I dragged him with me to get a taste of the wild side. What better than a cowboy, I told myself? I'm looking forward to at least get him on a horse."

Adam faked not to be very enthusiastic about the idea of spending his holiday smelling stables. His brother even elbowed him in the stomach, as if reminding a misbehaving child of his manners.

"Hello," the boy grumbled a greeting, hands in his pockets.

"Got ya, man. Tykes these days are all glued to one screen or another," the bulky man agreed, shaking his head. "But sorry to tell ya, this ain't good time to try a morsel of wild. Horses going mad lately."

"Mad?" Dean frowned, feigning both curiosity and disappointment. "What do you mean?"

"Dunno why, but this week they're all insane for a bit of fun, if you catch my drift," and what would usually be a lewd joke, actually made the man sigh. "Very aggressive, hafta shot them with tranquilizers. One of my buddies got a mare hospitalized because a stallion bit her so much while mounting her that she was bleeding rivers. Risk of infection and all. Can't even think how her poor hindquarters survived the ride."

"Whoa, that's… uh, weird. But stallions are usually hot-blooded anyway, right? Certainly I don't want to put my brother in danger with one of those beasts, but what about geldings?"

"Not much better, pal. The stallions, they know what to do and retain the balls to do so, but geldings don't. Means they're not getting any relief, but still suffer through this whatever fever. I tell ya, the whines are heartbreaking."

"Damn, that's a bummer," Dean lamented sincerely, feeling sorry for the animals. "I always liked horses. Wanted to be a cowboy myself when I was little. And no idea what's happening to them? Vet said nothing?"

"Nothing at all. It's like they're just losing their minds for the breeding. But I tell ya, right now nobody in good will should let ya near one of them. Keep that in mind if you visit other ranches, buddy."

"Ok, we will. Thanks, man."

The two Winchesters said goodbye and returned to the Impala.

"What about here?" Dean asked, taking the road. "Nothing yet?"

"Nothing, but Claire didn't either," Adam shook his head. "I think Patty was able to feel the connection to her key only because she's a psychic."

"Yeah, perhaps. Well, we still have time to visit some more ranches."

But in the end, it was useless. In none of the places they got a single clue about what was happening to the horses, all the ranchers saying pretty much the same. Three more after, the time was up for dinner and they returned to the motel.

"My poor Baby got a bath of dust and snow, but we found nothing," Dean complained, leaning in a chair with a slice of pizza in his hand. "Only that horses seems to be suffering a hard case of blue balls, at least those who still have them. What about you?"

"People in town know nothing," Sam answered. "They have heard about it, but they're not ranchers. Buuut…"

"But what?"

"Since this is quite the horse town, I expected to be a lot of things related to them, besides the ranches. You know, the usual: rodeos, county fairs, maybe some statue of a local legend or memorabilia about famous riders? Perhaps a tiny museum/souvenir shop, but there's nothing. Except this."

And opening his phone, he showed his brothers a picture of a small statuette of a half-horse man.

"What's that?" Adam narrowed his eyes. "A centaur?"

"Exactly," Castiel confirmed. "A piece forged in bronze, and the only thing in this town even remotely related to horses. We saw it adorning the attention desk in the sheriff's office. Not very valuable, to my evaluation."

"So it's a cursed item case? Dude, I hate those annoying fuckers," the older hunter groaned. "You never know what's gonna take to switch on the curse."

"Wait, are you saying that this thing might be the nesting Principality key?" the Milligan asked, receiving affirmative nods. "Way to go unnoticed. That statuette looks like the kind of crap people put in yard sales."

"But sheriff's office will be closed by now," Sam pointed out, looking at the clock on the ugly wall. "That means we're sneaking in."

"Cool!" Adam grinned, swallowing his pizza. "Finally some action."

"You're not coming," Dean stopped him firmly. "Even if we're cautious, if somehow the Police gets wind of us, we're already done for. But you still have a clean plate, and it's gonna remain that way. Understood?"

"What?" the boy retorted angrily. "But that's not fair! Claire and Pat participated in their cases."

"Because those girls are more in deep in this life than you."

"That's bullshit, Dean! I was devoured _alive_ by a ghoul. I was resurrected twice without anyone asking for my opinion. And now you're telling me that I'm too green about the supernatural to go sneaking in a office and steal some bronze? That's stupid, and you're neither my father to tell me what I can or can't do!"

A heavy silence fell in the room, both brothers immersed in a glaring battle.

"I'm only trying to protect you, Adam. There's a reason why Dad didn't want to raise you this way."

"Well, I'd say that comes a bit too late," he replied, curtly. "And you can't force me to sit here and wait like a good pet. You told me before that it was up to me to decide what I wanted to be, you can't go back on your word now. Dean, please," his tone became pleading. "You're a great brother and I want you to stay as it. You don't have to try and be a father too."

Dean gritted his teeth and looked away, considering the chances. Eventually though, he yielded.

"Ok. Ok, you bratty prat, you can come with us. But I'm warning you, big boy," he pointed a finger to Adam's face. "You get as much as a scratch, and I'm going to spank you until you can't sit, got it?"

Adam grinned, and impulsively hugged his awesome big brother. Sam and Castiel sighed in relief, crisis avoided. Really, there was no possible case without a bit of good ol' Winchester drama.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading and reviewing!_

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